


Hourglass

by OB1-K (Quietshade)



Series: Hourglass [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:42:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quietshade/pseuds/OB1-K
Summary: The more Obi-Wan tries to hold onto the moment the faster the sands of time slip through the cracks of his fingers. He realizes then, how futile the action is when one is trapped in the ever flowing currents of the hourglass. So he learns not to struggle against it but to make it follow his lead.or how the galaxy is equally messed up in an universe where the use of the Force is forbidden.





	1. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan learns a thing or two about happiness and patience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, welcome! Before we begin I have a few things to clarify about this AU. 
> 
> **The setting:** this takes place in a time were war had plunged the galaxy into a dark age. 
> 
> **The Jedi:** the order is vastly different to canon. The use of the force is forbidden as a consequence of the wars. The Jedi mainly focus on the recuperation of lost history and the advancement of technology. They're still the elite they were in canon, and enjoy a lot of prestige. Because they aren't allowed to actively recruit children, marriage and procreation are allowed with some restriction. They also take orphans from varying backgrounds and races.
> 
>  **The characters:** Obi-Wan is Tahl's and Qui-Gon's adopted son, while Qui-Gon is Dooku's. Slavery isn't a thing in the Outer ring, instead it's common place to exploit people through low salaries and forced labor. Shmi and Anakin are free, they're just too poor to enjoy freedom. Many of the age differences have been modified.
> 
> Many thanks to my friend DoomSymphony for helping me with this.

Happiness is often found where you less expect it.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan let the heavy bag fall on the floor. He pulled at his robe for what seemed to be the umpteenth time since arriving in Tatooine. The climate of the world was ridiculously humid and hot. It was making his clothes stick to him like a second skin. He cringed, sticking his tongue out in disgust. He hated when Qui-Gon’s missions brought them to hot worlds.

“Obi-Wan, see if you can find the other holocamera.” Qui-Gon said with a frown as he inspected the small camera in his hands. “I fear this one is done for.”

“I told you it wouldn’t survive the rain.” Obi-wan said with a shrug. He leaned down to look through one of the bags on the floor. He knew he'd seen the other camera somewhere in it.

Qui-Gon let out a soft laugh before replying, “And miss the Katarn mating ritual? No, it was a well worth sacrifice.”

Obi-Wan sighed. It was always the same with Qui-Gon.

He hummed in triumph when he finally pulled the camera out of the bag. He handed it carefully to Qui-Gon. “Just don’t make a habit out of it. You wouldn’t want to spend all our credits buying new cameras.”

Qui-Gon smiled at the boy. He ran a hand through Obi-Wan’s short spiky auburn hair before grabbing the slim braid. He ran his thumb over it for a moment before tugging at it playfully. “Why don’t you go see if you can find a suitable place to camp.”

“Sure.” Obi-Wan picked his backpack from the ground while trying to recall as much information about Tatooine as he could.

There was little to know about the world. Faraway from the Core in the Arkanis sector of the Outer Ring Territory. It was technologically archaic as many other worlds in the Outer Ring. Its surface was covered by thick jungles and blue oceans, with plains that extended for thousand of kilometers[1]. There was barely anything interesting about it. If it enjoyed any tourism at all, it was thanks to it being the base of Jabba’s empire. The precious metals and exotic animals, made a good profit. The great distance from anything of interest kept it away from the eye of the Republic. It was the perfect place for the Hutt, and he’d made sure to shape it to his interest. The natives mostly dedicated to mining and husbandry. Those lucky, or unlucky, enough to live near the capital also ventured in more distasteful activities. No one half sane would come to Tatooine without business.

Sadly for Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon was one of the unfortunate souls to have business in the world.

The vast jungles weren't only an essential part of the natives’ lives, they were also sacred to many of them. On the other hand they were of little value to their Hutt overlord. The discovery of a deposit of Aurodium in one of the main jungles had prompted Jabba to start its clearance and exploitation. The natives were understandably outraged, and had raised in protest. Soon the situation had escalated to a bloodshed between the protestants and the hutt’s mercenaries. The conflict had been brutal on both parts. An understanding was reached when the commerce, and Jabba’s profit, hit a historical low. The terms for the cease of fire were that a specialist would be brought in to determine the viability of exploiting the jungle without destroying it. That’s where Qui-Gon entered in play. Qui-Gon was regarded as the galaxy’s best biologist. Both the natives and the hutt were confident that he would find an acceptable solution to the current predicament.

For Obi-Wan it meant some months in the uncomfortably warm world.

“Obi-Wan…” Qui-Gon said. He looked back and barely had time to catch the sunscreen Qui-Gon tossed at him. “Twin suns. I don’t want to see any blisters or rashes on you, young man.”

Obi-Wan beamed at him. “I know. I know.” He adjusted his backpack before opening the tube. “I’ll be careful.”

He looked around the town as he applied the screen. Mos Espa, as one of the world’s three spaceports, was one of the few commercial towns. The goods sold there were mainly provisions for travelers who stopped to refuel. It didn’t have any of the extravagant products you could find in Mos Eisley, which was rumored to be the center of the Outer Ring’s black market. Nonetheless, the town enjoyed its fair share of visitors and merchants.

An old lady struggling to carry a heavy basket of fruits caught his attention. He tucked the sunscreen in his backpack and moved to help her. As soon as she noticed him, she shielded the basket with her body, as if she thought he was there to steal it.

“I just want to help.” he reassured with the gentler smile he could muster. She eyed him suspiciously before handing him the heavy basket. He followed her to a small stand before putting it down on the counter.

“Thanks.” she said grabbing a Muja fruit from the basket. “It’s hard to find any kind offworlder these days.” she smiled kindly at him as she offered fruit. He grabbed his pouch looking for some credits when the old lady stopped him. “It’s a gift sweetie.”

“Thank you.” He bowed slightly, before taking the fruit. His cheeks burned like they always did when someone treated him like a child. Which happened far more often than he’d liked. He was fifteen but he was yet to outgrow his baby face. He was round in places he should be sharp, and scrawny in places that should be muscular. His height only added to his boyish look.

He cleared his voice. “Have you any idea of a good place to camp around here, Ma’am?”

The woman laughed a little at the honorific. “Aren’t you charming!” He took a bite of the fruit, in part to hide his blush but also because he was genuinely afraid of her pinching his cheeks. “If you follow the road north you’ll arrive to a deep jungle. With some luck you will find a place or a hunter to guide you.”

“Thanks, Ma’am.” He bowed again at her before taking his leave.

“Watch out for the wimp rats!”

 

* * *

 

True to her words, he soon found himself in a deep humid jungle. The heat was worse in there than it had been in the town. The air was humid and heavy, tinted with the scent of decaying leaves. Every so often he would need to stop to catch his breath and to pull away his sweaty hair from his forehead.

There was also mud. A lot of it.

He walked minding his steps but that didn't stop him from getting caught more than once in a puddle. Every time he fell in one, a part of him wanted to turn around and send the exploration to all nine Corellian hells. He was trying to get himself out of a particularly annoying puddle when he heard a bush rustle. His hand was instantly on his side, gripping the hilt of his vibroblade. He stared at the bushes without blinking, ready to spring into action. He wasn’t sure what kind of animals inhabited Tatooine, but he learnt long ago to not take any chances.

“Surrender! You have stepped into the almighty lord Skywalker’s territory!”

Of all the things he’d expected to come out from behind the leaves a loud blond boy wasn’t one of them. He barely had time to register any surprise when the boy, who was aiming a slingshot at him, assaulted him with berry shots. The surprise made him slip and fall into the puddle of mud.

“Oops, are you alright?” the noisy boy asked sounding more amused than apologetic.

He kept his eyes closed, releasing some of his anger into the Force. He would never heard the end of Qui-Gon’s lecture about laundry.The boy approached him cautiously. He was most likely a local troublemaker. He didn't want to scare or harm him, but he wasn't beyond some pay back. He remained still. When the boy was about to touch him he grabbed his hand and turned them around.

He smirked, now looking down at the trapped boy. “Well.” he started, feeling smug. “It seems you're my prisoner now. Oh, great Skywalker. ”

The boy blinked at him before laughing out loud. “You cheated. We gotta start over.” he said sounding too joyful for someone who had just been captured.

Obi-Wan frowned at the boy. That wasn't how he'd expected him to react. “That's funny. I'm fairly sure that prisoners don't get to pick the rules.”

The boy laughed again. “You have a funny accent. You aren’t from around here, are you?”

Obi-Wan released the boy. He was baffled by the fact that the boy was neither apologetic for the trouble he'd caused nor concerned by being captured by a stranger. He stood and took in the state of his clothes. He grimaced at how filthy he looked and felt.

“No, I’m visiting with my father.” he answered as he ran a hand through his hair. It was full of mud. Even his braid was caked in the slimy substance.

“Oh, are you a tourist? Are you from offworld? Have you seen the stars up close?” Skywalker asked, each question sounding more excited than the previous.

It was his time to blink at the kid. “No, yes, and yes.” He pulled his canteen from his belt. He took a sip out of it before pouring some on his head.

“Wow...” the boy replied in awe. His eyes shining with excitement. “Have you ever flown a ship?”

“A few times.” he answered nonchalantly. Qui-Gon wasn’t fond of flying. Obi-Wan had been in charge of flying since he was thirteen and he had helped around it before that.

“That's amazing.” The boy finally lifted himself from the mud. “I’m Anakin Skywalker. What’s your name?”

He hesitated for a moment before accepting the boy’s dirty hand.

“Obi-Wan.” No surname. A habit he'd picked up early in his life. People were less prone to inquire about a missing surname than they were to ask why he didn't hold his father's. Most of the times they would just assume he was a Jinn.

Qui-Gon had never been too fond of that habit, either because he considered it rude or because it defied his reasons for leaving Obi-wan his original surname. His father made sure to glare at him every time he did it, but he’d never openly confronted him about it. So Obi-Wan continued to indulge in his habit.

“So, what are you doing out here, Obi-Wan?”

“Being attacked by locals, apparently.” he said in a heavy sarcastic tone.

Anakin looked around them for something. “Did some else attack you?”

He raised an eyebrow at the boy, before letting out a deep sigh. He was beyond wanting to explain sarcasm to a kid. “I'm looking for a place to camp.”

“Oh. Then, today's your luckiest day.” the boy declared pointing at himself with his right thumb. “Nobody knows the jungle better than me! ”

“Sure... I bet they don't.” He clipped his canteen back on his belt. “But I prefer to work alone.” He bowed at Anakin and turned around ready to leave.

“Come on. I know the perfect place.” Anakin grabbed the older boy roughly by the arm and dragged him before he could protest.

“Anakin, wait!” he begged as he tried not to trip in his mud filled boots. He was too busy trying to keep in balance to avoid all the branches in their path. Regardless of his effort It wasn’t long before he tripped and fell. “What a wonderful way to start a trip.” he muttered for himself.

“Are you alright?” Anakin asked for the second time in a few minutes. Although, to the boy's credit, this time he sounded concerned.

“I’m fine.” Obi-Wan replied curtly. He patted his clothes in a most futile attempt to get some dirt out of them. He sighed when he saw that Anakin still looked troubled. “Didn’t you say something about a good place to camp?”

Anakin nodded enthusiastically. His early embarrassment already forgotten. Obi-Wan smiled despite himself. The boy would give Garen a run for his money with that much energy.

“Not a good place to camp. The best place to camp.” Anakin corrected him.

“Lead the way then.” The boy wasn't dropping his attempt to guide him. He might as well go along with it. He could always keep an eye for any suitable place while he followed Anakin.

 

* * *

 

“So, if you aren’t tourists what are you doing here?” Anakin asked, minutes into their trip. Obi-Wan had the feeling that he would be answering many questions that afternoon.

“My father is a biologist. He was asked to inspect the impact that the recent mining operations have had in the jungle.”

Anakin stopped abruptly. “The mine’s all the adults talk about lately. They say the jungle will disappear if we don’t stop them.” He looked sad when he turned to look at Obi-Wan. “Is it true?”

“I… don’t know. That’s what my father’s investigation will reveal.”

“So you’re here to save the jungle?” His eyes were shining with admiration when he voiced the question.

Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortable.

“From a certain point of view. Our job is to develop a plan to keep both the mining and the jungles alive. If possible. Whether this plan is followed is ultimately in Jabba’s hands.” Anakin’s was crestfallen at the words. “I’m positive he'll do something about it. The current situation brings no benefit to him.” He added quickly trying to lighten the mood.

“I hope you're right. I really like the jungle.” Anakin said in a gloom tone. “Come on, we’re getting close.”

“How long will you stay here?” Anakin asked after not even a full minute of silence. He was trying Obi-Wan’s patience with the interrogation.

“A few months at most.”

Anakin frowned at him. “But what about school? If you will be here for so long won’t you miss your classes?” The boy stopped and his face lit. “Does that mean you will go to my school now?”

Obi-Wan waved his hands in negation. “No, no, no. I don’t go to school.”

“You don’t? Why not? Everybody goes to school.” Anakin looked skeptical.

Obi-Wan opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to find the right words. “My father is my teacher. I learn what I need from him.”

“But what about the stuff he doesn’t know?”

“That, I learn by myself from holobooks.” Although that was a half truth. He did attend classes and seminaries in the brief periods he stayed in the temple.

“But, why would you do that when you can go to school?”

Obi-Wan sighed. How could he explain thousands of years of tradition in a few words? He probably couldn't. “I know it sounds strange to you. But it's our way.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow at him. “You know. You’re weird.”

“That's rich coming from the one who's so intent on keeping me company.” Anakin snorted.

“Weird and funny. I like you.” Anakin pointed at a cave to their right. “We have to go through there. But be careful it’s slippery.”

Obi-Wan touched the humid rock. He looked inside to what seemed to be the mouth of darkness. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Anakin gave him a sly smile. “Don't tell me you're scared.”

“Of course I'm not.” he said a little too brusque, a little too fast.

Anakin smirked at him. “What are we waiting for, then?” The boy produced a flashlight from his pouch and strolled inside the cave.

“Anakin, wait!” But the boy was gone. He felt frustration raise inside him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Letting go of his anger and fears into the Force.

“What are you doing?” He jumped in surprise at the boy, whose face was just centimeters away.

“You...” he said taking a deep breath, “will be the death of me.”

“Is not my fault you're so jumpy.” Anakin said defensively, looking just a little offended.

But it wasn’t his fault either. Qui-Gon was very zealous about his quietness and peace. It was how Dooku had raised him and it was how he had raised Obi-Wan. He wasn’t used to anyone as hyper and loud as Anakin. Not even Garen and Quinlan on their bad days were that overwhelming.

“Are you coming or not?”

“Yeah…” he said reluctantly. He grabbed a glowing stick from his backpack. “I mean. It’s not like I’m being given any other option.” he muttered under his breath.

“So you work with your dad?” Anakin inquired soon after they’d entered the cave.

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. I help him, but I don't really work with him. I'm just sort of there.”

“But is it cool?”

Was it? It was hard to be always on the move. It was lonely, especially on those days where Qui-Gon was just too busy. But it was also fulfilling to help nature. It was exciting to see new places, to meet new people, to learn about new species. It was what he had done all his life and he couldn’t imagine himself not doing it.

“It is.” he decided.

“Must be cooler than being stuck in this boring planet.” Anakin said sounding annoyed. “Puddle.”

Obi-Wan jumped over the puddle. “Have you ever been offworld?”

“Never.” He felt bad for the boy. There was so much he was missing out. Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine a life stuck in one place. He’d been raised as a free soul and he would probably die as one.

“I can show you some holos if you want.”

“Really?” When Obi-Wan nodded, Anakin smiled brightly. “I take it back. You aren’t weird. You’re the best!” His lips twitched as he suppressed a smile. The boy was growing on him. He reminded Obi-Wan of a more hyperactive version of Garen.

“Look, we’re here.”

Anakin turned left and disappeared from his sigh. When he turned left the cave’s narrow passage widened and the hard rocks gave way to thick sand. Between the cave’s mouth the sea leaked, lighting the cave’s walls with a mixture of color produced by the reflection of the twin suns. On the horizon the clear blue sky of the planet stretched, interrupted only by the islands and rocks in the far distance. It was as if the cave had opened itself to shallow the coast. The beauty beyond it framed as a perfect picture between its walls.

“This is beautiful, Anakin.”

“Told ya, best place to camp.”

Obi-Wan inhaled deeply. He let the smell of the sea wash away the mud and perishing leaves of the jungle. Anakin was right. He couldn't have asked for a better place.

 

* * *

 

He put his head under the water and watched the mud mix with it. He ran a hand through his hair until he was positive the water had washed away most of the mud. He then took his braid and undid it. He cleaned it as best as he could before doing the same for the beads. He grabbed a small towel from his backpack and dried it before carefully braiding it back.

“Why do you have such a strange haircut?”

Obi-Wan sighed at the question. It was asked too often and he'd long grown tired of it. “This is the haircut given to every apprentice of the Jedi Order. It denotes my commitment to my training and the braid symbolizes my journey into adulthood.”

“What’s a Jedi order?”

“You haven’t heard of the Jedi legends?” Anakin shook his head. Obi-Wan gasped in disbelief. “The Jedi were some of the greatest heroes to ever exist. They were the peacekeepers of the old Republic. They were guided by the Force and it was their mission to guard the light of the universe. The Jedi Order honors the traditions of the old heroes. To be part of the order is to live as they lived.”

Anakin listened in silence. His eyes were shining with excitement when he asked. “What’s the Force?”

He patted the spot beside him. “Come. I’ll show you.”

Anakin diligently sat at his side while Obi-Wan searched his backpack. The older boy produced an old holobook from it. He rested it on his lap. Anakin leaned to his side to peek at it. “This is a Jedi using the Force.” He said as a holographic figure moved a Boulder without touching it. “The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things... ”

They were there talking about the Jedi for a long time. For Obi-Wan it was a welcomed change of pace. To the older boy’s surprise Anakin turned out to be a great listener. He was calm while Obi-Wan explained. He was eager to learn too, always asking when he wanted Obi-Wan to explain something further. Soon they ran out of Jedi things to talk about. Obi-Wan grabbed his travel diary and showed the younger boy his drawings of the worlds he'd visited.

“Your drawings are very neat.” Anakin said while running his index finger over a drawing of an Ewok.

“You need to be neat when you’re a researcher.” It was something that Qui-Gon often said to him.

He turned the next page and his breath hitched. It was a drawing he hadn’t seen in years. In the drawing an elegant woman had her arm raised supporting a beautiful bird. She was smiling gently at it, with almost closed eyes. On the background a man with long hair was holding a camera at her. He was smiling too, warm and open, as if there was no other place he’d rather be.

“Who’s that?”

“My mom.” Obi-Wan said softly. He looked up from the drawing and realized that the sun had almost hidden behind the horizon. “I have to go back. Father must be worried about me.” He stood and patted the sand out of his clothes. He filled the canteen and put his books back in the backpack.

Anakin followed him when he moved to leave.

“Did something happen to your mom? You look sad.” Anakin sounded almost afraid of asking.

Obi-wan glanced at him over his shoulder. “You’re very perceptive, for someone so young.”

Anakin scoffed. “I’m not that young. I’m nine already.”

Obi-Wan bit a smile. “Very old indeed.” Anakin eyed him suspiciously. Perhaps the boy was finally starting to catch sarcasm.

“So what happened to her?”

He didn’t dare speak again until they were inside of the cave, where the darkness could hide his pain. “She died two years ago.” He was proud of himself when his voice didn’t crack.

“I’m sorry.” Anakin was silent for a moment before he added. “She was pretty.”

“She was very strong too, and kind.” He felt his heart clench. Tahl wasn’t something he spoke about. She was a wound that was yet to heal in him. A wound that was still bleeding in Qui-Gon. Between them it was an unspoken rule not to mention her.

Her death had marked them both. It had made Qui-Gon distant and sad. It had made Obi-wan mature beyond his age. He went from being the boy that was being taken care of, to the young man that had to take care of his father.

He was surprised when someone hugged him from behind. “Don’t feel so sad. My mom says that when we pass out we become stars and fill other people’s life with light. I bet your mom’s really bright. Maybe we can see her tonight.”

He fell a knot form in his throat. He wanted to laugh at the boy’s idiocy. People didn’t become stars when they died. They passed into the Force. It was the natural cycle of life. He wanted to tell him as much. Instead of words a body wreaking sob left him, then another, until he was openly sobbing. He kneeled in the cave’s hard soil unable to carry his own weight. He wanted to laugh at himself. He hadn’t cried after her death, nor had Qui-Gon. It was their duty to accept her departure and honor the Force. He was dishonoring all she stood for by holding onto the pain and memories. But even so a few kind words from a foolish boy had broken down years of discipline in him. Thus Obi-Wan sobbed. He cried for his pain, for his loss, for his weakness, for the promises he had been unable to keep, for the loneliness that burdened his heart.

“It’s okay. You’ll be fine.” Anakin repeated again and again while petting his hair. The gesture made him sob louder. He was embarrassed at his need for comfort, which was so great that he had found home at the arms of a stranger. He was angry at his lack of control, so undeserving of the traditions he represented. But he was also infinitely grateful to the boy’s kindness.

They stayed like that until his sobs ceased. When he raised he was too numb to feel the pain or even the embarrassment.

“Thanks.” He said with a croaked voice and red eyes.

Anakin beamed at him and grabbed his hand. “Let’s find your dad. You guys must have dinner at my house. Mom’s the best cook in the galaxy.”

 

* * *

 

Qui-Gon was close to strolling into the jungle to look for his missing son. It was unusual for Obi-wan to take so long without contacting him. After so many hours his mind filled itself with unhelpful scenarios of what could be his boy’s fate. Fear started boiling in his stomach just at the thought. He wouldn’t survive losing Obi-Wan after losing Tahl. It was a life he couldn’t face.

 _I should have gone with him._ He lamented.

Then he saw Obi-Wan’s figure appear through the town’s gate. His fear quickly turned into exasperation. His son's clothes were most likely beyond salvation. The robes were tattered and dirty. Dust and mud masked their once white appearance. He could even see some tears in the fabric. Obi-wan wasn’t in any better shape. His pinked cheeks were shadowed with dust and mud. There was a scratch on his right cheek that was begging to be disinfected. His short hair was sticking to his skin with sweat and dirt. He would need new robes and a long shower at the very least. He took a deep breath. What truly worried him was that despite efforts to cover it, Obi-Wan’s eyes were swollen as if he had cried not long ago. He couldn’t remember the last time he'd seen his son cry. Obi-Wan had never been one to cry over small things, not even when he’d been a toddler.

Qui-Gon grabbed his son’s braid, which was surprisingly clean.

“Did you at least find a place to camp?” he said, instead of the other many questions he wanted ask. He knew he would only get an excuse or a half true if he questioned his son.

Obi-Wan, who had been silently fidgeting during his inspection, nodded slowly. “I did. You’ll like it.”

“It’s the best place to camp.” The blond boy at Obi-Wan’s side assured him. Qui-Gon had so far opted to ignore the boy in favor of inspecting his son.

He kneeled in front of him. “And who might you be?” he asked playfully.

“I’m Anakin. Obi-Wan’s new friend!” He raised an eyebrow at that. Obi-Wan wasn’t particularly known for picking up strays or making friends. No, it was something Tahl and Obi-Wan had complained about him doing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Anakin. I’m Qui-Gon Jinn.” He shook the boy’s small hand.

“You look really cool, sir. Are you a Jedi too?” Once again Qui-Gon was surprised. He glanced at his son, who avoided his gaze.

“So to speak. Did Obi-Wan tell you about the Jedi?”

The boy nodded eagerly. “He’s the best storyteller.”

Qui-Gon chuckled at that. “He certainly is.”

“Qui-Gon sir, can you and Obi-Wan have dinner at my house?”

“Do your parents approve of it?”

“Well…” he started, while shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I haven’t asked mom yet. But she will be fine with it. I can go ask her now.”

Qui-Gon put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, letting him know he wasn’t being reproached. “We will be honored if you would have us. You can go ask your mother while Obi-Wan helps me set the camp.”

“Wizard! I can totally do that!” The boy started running towards where, Qui-Gon assumed, his mother was. He turned around before getting too far away. “I’ll be back to help you with the camp before you know it.” And then he was gone.

“He certainly is high spirited.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Garen is high spirited. That's a Wookie on sugar.”

 

* * *

 

The skywalkers’ residence was homely. The rooms were filled with only the necessary furniture. There was no decoration, apart from some holo-pictures of Anakin. It was a total opposite to the opulence of his grandfather's place, and it felt more like home than the Count’s mansion ever would. It reminded him of the temple and how their camps had felt with Tahl on them.

Shmi Skywalker was equally welcoming. She received them with open arms and a big smile. Qui-Gon and her had fallen into an amicable conversation ever since they’d arrived. It made Obi-Wan happy to see him interacting with someone outside of work or the order. It had been too long since that had happened.

For his part Anakin hadn’t been lying about Shmi’s cooking. It was the best Obi-Wan had in a long time. He struggled to keep himself from going for a second round, until Shmi herself had served him another portion.

“Growing boys need to eat, darling.” He blushed and thanked her.

After dinner, Anakin dragged him to his room. The boy’s room was full of metal scraps, starship models and all sort of technological trash. Anakin walked to one of his machines and pressed a few buttons. The room was suddenly overflowing with the pleasant notes of Jizz. It was a band Obi-Wan didn’t recognize, not that he was an expert.

“I made this one last month.” Anakin said shoving a T-325 X-Wing Model at him. “and I finished this one three months ago.” A Pellaeon class - Star destroyer was shoved at him then. He inspected both models carefully. He was marveled at how detailed they were.

“Did you build them from scratch?” Anakin nodded as he looked around his things. “That’s amazing. You’re very gifted.”

“But I suck at the schematics. I wish I could draw half as good as you do.”

“It’s just practice.” he assured the boy. He lay down the two models carefully. “Do you have any Delta class Starfighters.”

Anakin stopped to look at him. “Do you like Delta classes?”

“They are my favorite.”

“Mine too!” He went to a chest behind the bed and grabbed from it a half complete Delta-35 light interceptor class. “I’ve been working on this one for months. But I can’t get the wings right, so I’ve been stuck for a while.”

Obi-Wan inspected it closely. He was once again surprised by the boy’s craft.

“I think it’s pretty good. Do you mind if I take a look at your tools?” Anakin shook his head. He dropped his box of pieces and tools in front of Obi-Wan. The older boy took a good look at them. “Can you give me something to draw with?” Not long after he had asked, Anakin had a pad for him.

“Wow, that's pretty cool.” Anakin said after some minutes of letting Obi-Wan work.

“Thanks.” Obi-Wan beamed at him. “You could try something like this. I think it would make the wings lighter and more detailed.”

Anakin scribbled over Obi-Wan’s work. “We can break this part in two to make it more flexible.”

“Good thinking.”

He didn’t realize how long they had been there until Qui-Gon knocked at the door. “We’re leaving, Obi-Wan.”

He made his best to keep his disappointment out of his face. It’s been awhile since he had so much fun, but he didn’t want to cause troubles for Qui-Gon. He was sure his father had sacrificed enough time for his sake.

Obi-wan almost fell when he tried to take a step only to find that Anakin was grabbing his leg.

“Please, don’t leave!” the boy begged him “Don’t take him away, please!” he begged turning to Qui-Gon. “He can sleep here. He can have my bed. He can have my breakfast, but please don’t take him. We’re building a Delta class Starfighter.”

Qui-Gon looked just as surprised as Obi-Wan felt.

“Ani!” Shmi said from behind Qui-Gon with a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation. “You can play with him another day.” The boy looked a moment away from crying. He felt a rush of panic rise within him. He was awful at dealing with tears. Hypocrite, a part of him screamed on his head. The least he owed the boy after the evening's incident was some comfort.

Shmi moved to disentangle her son from Obi-Wan’s leg. Qui-Gon stopped her before she could. “That’s alright. Obi-Wan can stay if he wishes to.”

Suddenly all eyes were on him. He fought to remain calm under the expectant gazes. Was it really fine for him to stay and sleep there? He felt like he was intruding. He didn’t want to leave Qui-Gon alone, but he wanted to stay. He especially wanted to work on the Starfighter model. _You can do that another day._ Accused that other part of himself.

He was about to decline when his gaze locked with Anakin’s glassy blue eyes. The boy looked younger than he had during the whole day. He looked awfully lonely too. “I’ll stay.”

Anakin hugged him before starting a series of small jumps. “Yes!”

Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon and bowed his head slightly in an apologetic manner. He knew there were countless of things he needed to help with. When he looked up he was surprised to find Qui-Gon smiling warmly at him. Just for a moment his heart clenched in his chest. He couldn’t remember Qui-Gon smiling so openly since his Tahl’s dead.

“I’m sorry. He’s usually very well behaved.” Shmi said, not realizing that she had interrupted an intimate moment between father and son.

“Don’t worry. He’s been very helpful and polite to us. Besides, I’m sure Obi-Wan is enjoying himself too.” He glared at his father. He wanted to deny that he was enjoying the company of a nine years old, if just for the sake of his pride. He would be lying if he said so. “Well, I’ll take my leave.” He put a firm hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Be good.”

“Try not to burn down the camp.”

“It happened just once.” Qui-Gon said not sounding as serious as he looked, “And you, my impertinent son, promised not to talk about it.”

He was about to say _“I promised not to tell mom.”_ But he bit his tongue before the words escaped him. “Once, is more than enough.” he said instead.

Qui-Gon laughed before leaving the room with Shmi.

“What’s Impertitent?” Anakin asked struggling with the word.

“Impertinent. It means I was being rude.” Obi-Wan sat back on the spot he'd been occupying minutes before. “Come on, let’s finish the schematic.”

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan woke up to the low snoring of someone and an unfamiliar weight on his chest. He opened his eyes, fighting with his sleepiness. He found himself in an equally unfamiliar room. In his hazy state of mind he panicked.

“Pie.” a small voice whispered on his ear. He blinked at the sleeping form of Anakin. He almost chuckled. A warm feeling ignited in his chest. He wondered if that’s how it felt to have brothers.

He closed his eyes planning on sleeping some more. After a few minutes he heard the door open slowly. When he looked at the door his gaze locked with Shmi’s brown eyes. She smiled at him and motioned for him to follow her. He slowly disentangled himself from the sleeping boy.

“Did you sleep well?” Shmi asked once he was outside.

“I did, thanks.” It was in fact the best he had slept in a while. Real beds were a luxury in their lifestyle.

“What would you like to eat?” She asked, motioning for him to sit on the small table.

“Anything you’re having will be fine.” She nodded at that. “Do you want me to help? I’m a good cook.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t let you. You’re a guest dear, just enjoy. ”

“I insist. It would be my pleasure.” He moved to her side and rolled the long sleeves of his robe. “How can I help?”

Shmi hesitated for a moment before passing him a bowl full of batter.

“Just mix it and when it’s smooth add the berries.” Obi-Wan nodded, and started humming a tune that had stuck in his head from the night before. “Thanks for staying the night. I know Anakin can be very demanding and you must have been tired from the trip.”

He shook his head. “It was my pleasure Ma’am. Anakin is very likeable and smart.”

“He is.” she agreed, sounding as proud as any mother could be. “Sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”

Obi-Wan stopped mixing and said hesitantly. “If you don't mind me asking. What of his father?” He didn’t like prying, but curiosity was eating at him. He’d noticed that Anakin hadn’t mentioned his father even once since they’d met. Nor had his mother for that matter.

Shmi stopped her task and looked through the window at something Obi-Wan couldn’t pin point. The silence grew and Obi-Wan feared he’d gone too far.

“He died years ago.” she said, but something in her tone didn’t ring true. Obi-Wan nodded slowly. He wouldn’t mention it. That was as far as his curiosity would take him.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Ma’am.”

She smiled at him. “Would you mind if I ask about your mother?”

He shook his head. “It’s only fair. She died two years ago.”

“Then, I’m sorry for your loss too.” She patted him on the shoulder. “She must have been a great woman. Your parents have done an excellent job raising such a polite and mature young man.”

He felt his cheeks burn at her compliment. “Thanks.”

“Mom, I’m hungry.” Came the sleepy voice of Anakin.

Obi-Wan turned to looked at him. Anakin was rubbing his eyes, looking not too happy. When he finally lifted his gaze and saw Obi-Wan his face lit. He was shocked when they boy ran and hugged him.

“I thought I’d dreamed you.” He opened his mouth not sure what to reply to that.

“Ani. Go wash yourself. Breakfast will be ready soon.” Shmi scowled.

“Ok.” Anakin answered with a pout. Then he looked at Obi-Wan with a grin. “Did you wash yourself?” He didn’t let Obi-Wan reply before he grabbed his hand. “Come on, we can wash together. We even have hot water!”

He managed to put the bowl down before the boy dragged him. “Anakin, wait.” He said in pure exasperation. He’d never been comfortable being naked in front of others, nor was he comfortable admitting that he was a prude. “I-I don’t have clothes here.”

“Don’t worry about that. I have some clothes your size in my closet.” Shmi said. She hadn’t picked up his desperation.

“Bath time, bath time.” Anakin chanted happily as he dragged a clearly distressed Obi-Wan.

 

* * *

 

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan's attire. The boy was dressed in civilian clothes, a dark red short sleeve shirt and matching dark pants. It looked odd on him. Not only because it was unusual to see him out of his traditional robes, but because the color was ill fitted for him.

“Don’t ask.” Obi-Wan muttered sounding every bit as annoyed as he looked.

Qui-Gon shook his head in amusement and resumed his task.

When Obi-Wan had been younger his secrecy had driven Qui-Gon mad. In many senses Obi-Wan was a parent’s dream come true. He was hardworking, obedient, very intelligent and vastly independent. He rarely did anything to upset neither him nor Tahl, but that on itself had turned out to be the boy’s biggest flaw.

Obi-Wan had broken his wrist when he was six, in an event still unknown to Qui-Gon. The ingenious boy had wrapped the injury with a self-made cast. He hid it under his long sleeve for three long days, not wanting to bother his busy parents. It had been Tahl who had surprised the boy while he fixed the cast on the night of the third day. A hurried visit to the healers and a bath in bacta had ensured the wrist’s proper healing.

Qui-Gon had never felt as much a failure of a parent as that day. He'd thought that Obi-Wan didn't trust them. That perhaps they had failed to made him feel safe. Even after a lecture about trust the boy had refused to share the events that had lead to his injury. It'd hurt him deeply and it had in turn hurt their relationship for the months to come.

It’d been Tahl who made him realize that it wasn't their fault and that Obi-Wan wasn't doing it to hurt them. It was who he was. Obi-Wan’s way of showing his love was to be independent, to help as much as he could, to carry his own burdens. Qui-Gon had never met someone more selfless than his son. It made him immensely proud to call himself his father.

He would always allow Obi-Wan his secrecy as long as he didn't suspect any injury.

“Can you help me set up the equipment? It's the only thing missing.” Obi-Wan nodded and moved to unpack the many bags of tools and equipment.

Qui-Gon had never been good with technology, that had been Tahl’s specialty. It was a blessing from the Force itself that Obi-Wan was competent enough with it. Otherwise Qui-Gon would expend most of his research time trying to make machines work.

“Father.” Obi-Wan said after many minutes of silence between them. Qui-Gon stopped organizing his papers and looked at the boy. Just for a moment he seemed like he was debating with himself whether to continue or not. “Thanks for allowing me to stay with the Skywalkers.”

Qui-Gon let out a heavy sigh. He had the feeling that wasn't what his son wanted to talk about.

“Haven’t we been through this already?” He neared Obi-Wan and put a hand on his shoulder. “You don't have to thank me or apologize for having your own life. I don't own your time. You're entitled to do with it what you please. You're your own person, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan gaze fell to the floor. “I know.”

Qui-Gon squeezed his shoulders trying to reassure him. Obi-Wan looked up and smiled at the gesture. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Once again the boy’s gaze fell to the floor. He bit his lower lip. “I..”

“knock, knock, knock!” came the energetic voice of Anakin from outside the tent. Obi-Wan turned his face to the entrance of the tent and blinked at it with a puzzled expression. As if he couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened. “Knock, knock!”

Qui-Gon couldn't help but stare at it too.

When Obi-Wan opened the tent’s entrance a smiling Anakin came into view. “Hey Obi-Wan! Wanna go swim with me?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Do tell me, why you were making noises outside the tent?”

Now it was Anakin’s turn to look puzzled. “It's not like I can knock on the tent. It’s made of fabric you know.”

Obi-Wan raised his other eyebrow at the statement. “You could have called my name.” _like a normal person would_ went unsaid.

“But I wasn't sure you were here!”

Obi-Wan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Forget about it. I don't even know why I bother.”

“Does that mean we can go out and play?”

Obi-Wan hesitated before shaking his head. Obi-Wan was awfully bad at saying no. “Sorry, I'm busy at the moment. “

Anakin was crestfallen for a moment. “Can I help you?”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something but Qui-Gon quickly interrupted him. “That's a great idea. You can help him set up the rest of the equipment, once you're done you can go and play. ”

Obi-Wan glared at him. Qui-Gon could almost hear him cursing in the Force. He smiled back.

“Come on, Anakin.” Obi-Wan surrendered after a long sigh. “Grab those bags on the corner, and be careful not to drop them.” Anakin did as prompted and followed Obi-Wan outside the tent. Not before waving back at Qui-Gon and almost dropping the bags on the process, much to Obi-Wan’s dismay.

With the boys out of range Qui-Gon let himself drop on a chair and finally loosened his grip on his temper. He was annoyed at Anakin’s bad timing. Obi-Wan had been about to tell him something important and the boy had all but ruined the opportunity. Now, he was sure he would never hear about it. But he couldn't have just dismissed Anakin. Force knew Obi-Wan needed more time around young people. His son had the soul of an old man. Qui-Gon's work had always keep them away from civilization, far more often than any other Jedi. Mace and Yoda were always complaining about it.

“Socialize the boy needs.” Yoda would say every time the subject raised.

“Qui-Gon, you can't believe that forcing him into this sort of hermitage will do him any good.” Mace would argue every time they spoke.

What they wouldn't understand is that Qui-Gon had tried.

Qui-Gon had tried to make the boy socialize. He had offered Obi-Wan the chance to stay in the temple and be with his friends. Even Dooku had offered him a place in Serenno. All that ever had accomplished was making the headstrong teenager look half broken and offended. As if Qui-Gon was actually trying to get rid of him. Anakin was a blessing. He'd hardly ever seen Obi-Wan speak so much to anyone not named Bant. Obi-Wan was enjoying himself. Qui-Gon would do everything he could to keep it that way.

 

* * *

 

 

Obi-Wan winced at the loud shriek the old door made as Anakin dragged it open. “Just wait until you see the inside. You're gonna love it.”

Once they stepped inside Obi-Wan had to blink and rub his eyes in an attempt to make them adjust to the dim light. Anakin left his side wandering to force knows where. Then the small shack lit with a pale yellow light. Obi-Wan couldn't help but whistle at Anakin’s workshop. The small shack was nothing to behold on the outside. Rust had corroded the durasteel to a brownish appearance and made the structure look short from falling apart. The inside on the other hand was structured with newer pieces of metal. The original structure of the shack had been expanded into the ground making it much more spacious.

“Most impressive.” he admitted. He gently picked one of the prototypes on the nearby shelf examining it closely. It was a small sort of Droid. “What is this?”

“FLD-2[2], it's a flying camera prototype.” Anakin said proudly.

“Does it work?” Obi-Wan asked with more enthusiasm.

Anakin’s shoulders slumped. He shook his head. “I haven't been able to make it fly higher than my knees,” then he added with determination, “Yet.”

“That's a shame. You could try getting it into the market if it worked.”

“You think someone would buy it?” There was a hint of disbelief in Anakin’s question. It made Obi-Wan wonder if anyone had instructed or guided the boy before. He had talent worth encouraging, his design was still childish but there was latent potential in it. Obi-Wan had no doubt that with the right push Anakin could make it big in the Droid business.

“The size is very practical, with a good software to accompany it I can think of many uses for it. In fact, I'm sure dad would love to have one.”

Anakin face lit at Obi-Wan’s assessment. “Would they pay good?”

“Probably.”

“Enough for mom to drop her night job?”

Obi-Wan heart twisted at the question. It was asked with such earnest and hope. It also noted how little the boy knew of the world. Letting his mom out of one of her jobs was hardly what Obi-Wan would call a lot of money.

“Certainly enough for that.”

“That’s so wizard!” Anakin grabbed the little Droid from the older boy's offering hand. He was looking at it with a newfound adoration. “I'll make sure to finish it before the summer ends.”

He smiled. “I'll be looking forward to it.”

“So…” he started as he walked around the workshop, “What else do you have here?”

“Do you like racing?”

“Not particularly.” and that was putting it mildly. Obi-Wan didn't like high speed vehicles. Defying the common sense of speed limit for fun wasn't something he found appealing.

Anakin pouted obviously disappointed at the answer. “You just don't know better.”

Anakin grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled at it. He guided Obi-Wan through a wooden ramp to the lower level of the workshop. The wood made cracking noises under his feet and Obi-Wan gulped with anxiety. Just how strong was a wooden structure made by a nine years old? He was relieved when his feet touched solid ground.

From there he took a moment to look up and examine the place. Anakin or someone, had dug a perfect square into the ground of the workshop, which was at least one story deep. The ramp rounded all four walls of it until it reached the soil. From there he could see that the it was better constructed than he had first given it credit for. Looking at the lower level he noticed that he wall farther away from the entrance had been excavated far beyond the reach of the shack into the soil. The dirt roof above it was supported by structures that reminded Obi-Wan of mines. Under the expanded area were Anakin’s biggest prototypes.

Said boy was currently halfway inside of a prototype that seemed to be some kind of vehicle.

“What is that?” Obi-Wan was almost afraid of asking.

“A pod.” he answered still half inside the dreaded machine. “Haven't you seen any pod racing before?”

“No.” Anakin’s head emerged from within the pod only to gaps at Obi-Wan like a fish.

“You gotta be kidding.” He jumped away from the machine and whipped his hand across his cheek smearing it with black grease. “Pod racing is the best thing ever!”

Obi-Wan really doubted it.

“Come on, help me get it upstairs. You gotta try FP-3[3]. She's the fastest pod in all Mos Espa.”

Obi-Wan shook his head hurriedly. “No, I'm fine. Why don't we work on the Delta class model.”

“We can work on it later.” Anakin tugged at his shirt smearing some oil on it too. Thankfully, it was the dark shirt Mrs. Skywalker had given him and not his white Jedi robes. He would need to clean it thoroughly either way, but at least the dark color would hide the stain from Qui-Gon.

“I don't know, Anakin. Will the ramp even support the pod’s weight?”

Anakin laughed at him. “Of course it will. I have done it a million times.”

Obi-Wan wanted to say that a million times was probably an exaggeration. Instead, he pressed his lips together into a thin line. He got behind the vehicle and started pushing. He had a bad feeling about it, but the fastest he could be done with it the better.

 

* * *

 

One hour later Obi-Wan was on his knees drenched to his bones, puking Mrs Skywalker’s breakfast at the edge of the river.

Anakin had insisted that the best way to start Obi-Wan into pod racing was making him drive FP-3 down a ledge on the edge of the river. It was an understatement to say that it hadn't been Anakin’s most brilliant idea. Nor had it been Obi-Wan's most lucid moment when he agreed to it.

In the end Obi-Wan was just glad that he had all his bones intact.

“You're an awful pilot.” Anakin mumbled still grudging over the damaged pod.

Obi-Wan would have glared at him if he hadn't felt a new wave of nausea hit him. Anakin sighed and resumed rubbing circles on the older boy's back.

“Next time I'm driving, and you will be the copilot. ”

This time Obi-Wan managed to take a gulp of air and glare at the boy. “I don't think there will be a next time.” he said firmly with a raspy voice.

Anakin stopped rubbing circles and instead patted his back lightly. “Don't be silly, I can fix P-3 in a hunch. Plus Kitster was a worse pilot when he started. I'm sure you'll be fine.”

Obi-Wan groaned because that wasn't what he'd meant. He wondered if he could talk Anakin out of it. Somehow he doubted it.

 

* * *

 

Qui-Gon didn't even raise an eyebrow when his son entered the tent covered in grime, and looking exhausted. It had become a somewhat common occurrence since their arrival in Tatooine. Just as it was common to see Anakin strolling right behind him looking equally dirty but much more enthusiastic. Obi-Wan walked past him without a word. He let himself fall onto his mattress, not caring one bit how filthy he was.

“I'm never having children.” the teenager declared, much to Qui-Gon's amusement.

“I think it is a little too early for you to be pledging that, son.”

“I don't care. I won't.”

Anakin unceremoniously dropped at Obi-Wan's side. The movement made the mattress lift Obi-Wan a few inches into the air. When the teenager landed he let out a pained grunt. He turned and looked sharply at Qui-Gon, as if saying 'See what I mean?'

“Qui-Gon sir, is it OK if I sleep here tonight? Mom already said it's fine and so did Obi-Wan.”

“That's not what I said.” Obi-Wan protested, “I said it was OK if your mom and my father were OK with it.”

“So?” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at the boy before burrowing his face into the mattress. He was obviously beyond wanting to discuss anything.

“It's fine with me, Anakin. But first you two need to clean yourselves.” Qui-Gon stood from his desk and walked towards his dirty son. He pulled at the boy's arm. “Up, Obi-Wan.”

To the boy's credit all he did was give a weak grunt before he was on his feet. Always the obedient son.

“I race you to the sprint!” Anakin shouted jumping off the mattress and out of the tent.

“By the Force, I don't know where he gets so much energy from.”

Qui-Gon almost wanted to make a comment about youth, but Obi-Wan had always been fairly quiet and conserved. “Go, before he comes up with a punishment for the loser.”

Obi-Wan let out a small whimper.

 

* * *

 

Dinner wasn't all that different from the other night. Well, except for the fact that it was Obi-Wan’s cooking they ate. Or that instead of talking to Shmi, Qui-Gon was engaged listening to Anakin talking about his droids.

“Obi-Wan is right. I would appreciate this invention of yours. It would be useful for observing some animals.” Qui-Gon rubbed his chin. He would had loved to have something like that during their visit to Lehon. He'd relied on Obi-Wan’s tree climbing abilities to record the local bird nests. Their bacta reserve had suffered quite heavily on that mission.

“He said I could sell it and get money.”

“Oh, I'm certain you could. Once you finish the prototype I would gladly speak to some of my colleagues about it.”

Anakin’s eyes sparkled as he leaned forward. “Really?” when Qui-Gon nodded Anakin jumped from his spot on the floor, almost knocking his plate of food.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan screamed with exasperation. He tried to still the boy only to have him spin around him.

“You two are the very best in the Universe!”

“What do you plan on doing with the money, Anakin?” Qui-Gon asked in amusement. The boy stopped spinning around a very annoyed Obi-Wan.

“I'm gonna pay the rent so mom can drop her night job.” Qui-Gon saw many emotions cross his son's face at the statement. He could feel a mix of sadness, hope and pride in the Force coming from him.

“Oh, Anakin.” He ruffled the blond hair lovingly. “You have a very kind heart.”

For the first time since meeting him he saw the boy blush. “Mom says we all should be kind to each other, and I like mom the best.”

Qui-Gon smiled. “She is a very smart woman. You should be proud of each other.”

The Skywalkers were a good family. Qui-Gon had no doubts that Obi-Wan would learn a valuable lesson from his time with Anakin. Hopefully he would leave the planet being a better man.

Qui-Gon picked Anakin’s forgotten plate and handed it to Obi-Wan, together with his own. The boy accepted it and started cleaning the tent for the night. Anakin looked like he was about to follow him and Qui-Gon stopped him.

“Come on. Let's get you ready for bed.”

When Obi-Wan finished with the cleaning, Anakin was already in pajamas and resting on one side of Obi-Wan’s mattress. Anakin rolled on his stomach and patted the spot beside him. “Come Obi, your bed is warm and cozy.”

“Of all people, I would know that better than anyone.” Obi-Wan whispered.

Obi-Wan undressed down to his underpants. When he dropped beside Anakin, his face was one of nothing but blissful happiness. He didn't even seem to mind that the younger boy had climbed onto him, face tucked on the hollow between Obi-Wan’s shoulder and neck. The older boy was out in less than five minutes. Qui-Gon smiled at the endearing scene. When Qui-Gon passed by the boys’ mattress Anakin looked up and waved at him. He then resumed his previous activity of playing with Obi-Wan’s braid.

“Try to sleep, Ani.” The boy nodded absently but didn't stop playing with the Auburn braid. He seemed to have taken a liking to it, as that wasn't the first time Qui-Gon had caught him playing with it. But then again, Anakin had taken a liking on Obi-Wan as a whole. He was fairly convinced that the boy was holding a boyish crush on his son. Too bad that Qui-Gon was halfway convinced that Obi-Wan was asexual. Or something of the like.

 

* * *

 

“Obi-Wan, it’s time to get up.” Qui-Gon voice called.

Obi-Wan didn’t move or answer. It had never been hard for him to raise early to meditate and attend his duties. On the contrary, he had always taken joy on the soothing presence of the dawn. But for the first time since he could remember, he didn’t want to go and face the new day.

It was their last day in Tatooine.

A month and a half had passed by like water through his hands. Qui-Gon's investigation had progressed as expected. To no one's surprise and joy, the jungle was threatened by the mine. Given all the evidence and pressure from the locals, Jabba’s mine operation was forced to stop. It hadn't been particularly hard to convince the hutt. Profit was the hutt’s language and it was evident that the new mine would produce more headaches than credits.

Despite his initial vehement dislike of the world, Obi-Wan had found himself liking it. At some point in his stay the unbearable hot days had become warm evenings. The pesky mud had become an amusing obstacle in his path. The loud boy had become an indispensable companion and their misadventures had become the time of the day he looked forward to.

“Obi-Wan, up.” He burrowed himself more into his covers.

“Obi-Wan…” There was a hand peeling the covers off him before gently running through his hair. “Are you ill, son?” he shook his head quickly. He hated hearing Qui-Gon's concerned voice.

“I'm fine. I'll be up in a moment.”

Qui-Gon's hand went to his forehead and stayed there for a moment before retreating together with the weight on the mattress. He dared take a look at the towering man and found him frowning.

Qui-Gon smiled when he found Obi-Wan’s gaze.

“I'll prepare us breakfast while you finish packing.” He gave a small nod and watched Qui-Gon retreat to the kitchen area. He struggled with the heavy covers, sighing when he was out of them. Most of their belongings had been packed the night before. All that remained were things they needed for the day. Obi-Wan started with Qui-Gon's mattress. He wrestle the old thing into submission, panting loudly after he’d managed to roll and secure it.

“We ought to get a Droid to do this.” He complained while wiping his brow a little too forceful.

“Nonsense.” Qui-Gon said in dismissal. “Those things aren't reliable. We would probably spend more money and time repairing it than it's worth.”

“No more than buying new cameras and fixing dropped equipment.” He said under his breath.

He yelped when a stream of cold water hit his head. “I heard you, young man.”

“And I'm the immature one.” he grabbed his towel and started drying his hair.

“You're the small one. We all know you have the soul of a 50 years old.”

“They must have switched us, then.”

Qui-Gon turned his head to look at him. The man was smirking although he was trying to look serious. “Cheeky brat.”

“That's master Jinn for you, son.” he said imitating Qui-Gon's own voice. Qui-Gon laughed hard at that.

“A cheeky brat indeed.” Qui-Gon said in a higher pitch than usual and with a heavy coruscanty accent. Obi-Wan gaped at him.

“I do not sound like that!” he exclaimed with indignation.

“You do.” Qui-Gon said still smiling.

“Do not.”

“Do so.”

“Got it! ” Anakin said opening the tent. The boy had stopped knocking somewhere between day 10 and 15.

“Morning Qui-Gon, sir.” He said as he ran towards Obi-Wan. “Look! Mr. Fer gave me his old fishing rod. Come on OB1, we have to try it on the upper stream.”

The boy's grin slowly disappeared as noticed all the packed bags.

“Why are you packing?” he asked in a very small voice.

“You didn't tell him?” Qui-Gon asked Obi-Wan incredulously. The tent suddenly felt smaller as Obi-Wan’s shame overwhelmed him. He dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to meet Qui-Gon’s judging eyes.

“I-I was going to… but he insisted on visiting the graveyard.” and looking for a Krayt Dragon, and swimming. It was an excuse, a bad one, even if it held some truth.

“You can't be leaving!” Obi-Wan flinched at Anakin’s loud voice.

He finally dared raise his gaze to look at the boy who had been a brother to him for the past 40 days. Anakin’s eyes were wide and glassy with unshed tears, turbulent with with betrayal and ire. His lower lip quivered violently and his hands had death grip on the finishing rod. Obi-Wan’s stomach turned in self disgust and guilt. It wasn't how he'd wanted it to go. He hadn't wanted to hurt him. He just hadn't found the right time to tell him before. He’d hoped to find a good moment some time before they left. But as Qui-Gon had put it: _“It's often in our search for the perfect moment that we lose the best opportunities.”_

This wasn't how he'd expected to learn that particular lesson either.

“You promised we would finish the Delta class together. You said you would help me improve my schematics.” Anakin said, but the words didn't carry the heat from before. Instead they were heavy with resignation. “You can't leave.” he finished almost in a plea.

“You know I can’t stay.”

“You lied.” Anakin snapped. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to defend himself, to explain that it wasn’t so. Anakin interrupted him with a fiery “I hate you!”

Obi-Wan flinched when the fishing rod hit the floor and cracked. Anakin was out of the tent before anyone could do or say anything. He bit his lips and tried to swallow past the knot in his throat. It wasn’t how he had hoped things to end. He turned and grabbed a pillow, ready to continue packing. A hand yanked him by the shoulder roughly. Qui-Gon looked as furious as Obi-Wan had ever seen him. His eyes were wild and his jaw was firmly closed behind slightly parted lips. He looked menacing. If it had been anyone but him, Obi-Wan would have been frightened. Instead he was surprised.

“What are you doing!”

“Oh, I don’t know, packing maybe.” he said bitterly, “Unless you expect the equipment to get hands and pack itself.”

Qui-Gon, who usually received his son's humor with open arms, frowned. “This is no way for you to behave.” He tugged the pillow in Obi-Wan’s hand with a little more strength than necessary. “You will go out and find Anakin. You will apologize to him and make up for your mistake. Then you will come back and spend the next week meditating over what you just did.”

Obi-Wan’s cheek turned bright red with anger. “Would you like anything else with that, an ingot of Aurodium perhaps, _Lord_ Qui-Gon?”

Qui-Gon scowled at the title. He said in a low and commanding voice. “Go. The next time I see you, you’d better learned your lesson.”

 

* * *

 

He found Anakin sitting near the river bank. The boy was hugging his knees to his chest, chin resting on them. His hair obscured most of his face. But Obi-Wan didn't have to see his expression to know how angry he was. He hesitated before sitting at his side.

“Go away. I don't want to see you.” Anakin’s voice sounded wet and raspy. Obi-Wan once again felt guilty for hurting the boy.

“I'm-”

“Leave me alone!” Anakin said more forcefully this time.

Obi-Wan sighed. This was what he'd feared would happen. But he couldn't go back, not with Qui-Gon as furious as he was. Also not with Anakin hurting so much. He picked up a branch from his side and started drawing absently on the soil. He wasn’t good at dealing with those kind of situations. Bant had always been the one to mend all of her friend’s petty arguments with Garen and Reeft. It wasn't until he caught Anakin peeking at the drawing that an idea occurred to him.

He drew the schematic of a pot before writing “The pot we’ll ride next year” at its side.

Anakin looked at him for the first time. “You’ll come back next year?”

“I will. Dad and I already talked about it. I’ll stay the whole summer if you would have me at your home. If not-”

“Of course you can stay with us.” Anakin interrupted him. Then the boy looked down. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 _Because I’m a coward._ He mentally berated himself. “Some things are just that hard to face.” Anakin looked puzzled. Obi-Wan waved a hand dismissively. “You’ll understand once you’re older.”

Anakin pushed him playfully. “Because you're _that_ old.”

“Older than you for certain.”

Anakin pouted. “I want to hear you sound so smug when you find out that I’m taller than you next year.”

Obi-Wan scoffed. “Keep dreaming.” There was no way the boy would outgrow him in a year… right?

Anakin moved closer to him, until their thighs were meeting. He hugged Obi-Wan tightly. “I'm sorry. I don't hate you.” He said with his face burrowed in Obi-Wan’s neck.

“I know.” He returned the hug hesitantly. “I’m sorry too. I wish we had more time.”

“When are you leaving?”

“This afternoon.” He answered guiltily.

Anakin pushed him back. For a moment Obi-Wan thought he would throw another tantrum. Instead Anakin was looking at him with determination. He blushed at the proximity and intensity of the gaze. He was about to ask what had gotten into the boy when Anakin suddenly stood.

“I have something to do.” he said with a voice filled of as much determination as his eyes. “I'll catch you up in the platform. Don't you dare leave before I arrive.”

“Wait, Anakin!” He was left behind with a stretched hand grasping for the boy who no longer was there. He let a sad smile slip. It was always the same with Anakin and Qui-Gon. He was always the one chasing behind them. He wondered if one day he wouldn’t be fast enough to catch up to them.

 

* * *

 

“Obi-Wan, we must leave.” Qui-Gon said again.

“I know.” He replied, shifting from one foot to the other. “Just give him a few more minutes. He said he would be here.”

Qui-Gon sighed. He was happy that Obi-Wan had managed to patch things up with Anakin. But Mace was being a pain, calling every fifteen minutes to check if they had already left. “Ten more minutes, young man.”

“Thanks.”

He sat down on the landing ramp, resting his aching knees. He was truly glad his son’s mood was back to normal. He hated arguing with Obi-Wan, it reminded him too much of his time with Dooku. Sometimes he wondered if he was being too hard with the boy, just like he'd felt that Dooku had been too hard with him. Before, he'd counted with Tahl to mediate their arguments. Now, he felt as if he was stumbling in the dark waiting for the slip that would push Obi-Wan away from him.

“Hey!” Qui-Gon focused on Anakin’s running figure. The blond stopped in front of Obi-Wan panting with red checks. “I'm sorry I'm late.”

“Took you long enough. I thought you had finally gotten yourself caught by those pesky Jawas.”

“You're never letting that one go, are you?” Anakin asked embarrassed.

Obi-Wan beamed. “Oh, you'll be hearing about it for a while.”

“I feel like I'm missing something.” Qui-Gon said. Both boys laughed at him.

“Here, Qui-Gon sir.” Anakin passed him a bag he’d been holding. “Mom baked some Muja fruit muffins for you.”

“Give her my thanks.” he said as he grabbed the bag.

“What's up with the backpack.” Obi-Wan asked suspiciously. “You aren't about to declare that you're coming with us, are you?”

Anakin laughed. “You wish.” He dropped the backpack on the floor. Qui-Gon watched him curiously as the boy took a small Droid from it.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “I can't possibly-”

Anakin shrugged. “It's not like it's finished yet. I modified it to hover at head’s height and follow you around. It's not much, but at least you can record what happens around you.”

To demonstrate, Anakin pushed a button on the Droid. The small Droid came to life, raising a meter off the ground. It looked at its surroundings, stopping to scan each human. When it scanned Obi-Wan the Droid chirped happily before approaching the red headed boy.

“Woah! Stay away.” Obi-Wan said, pushing the small Droid away from his face.

“This is too much, Anakin.” Qui-Gon said feeling the need to intervene. “You wanted to sell this. We can't possibly take your prototype.”

Anakin shrugged. “I'll make a new one. I have a new design in mind, anyway.”

“Get it off me, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said exasperated, trying to keep some distance from the small Droid.

“Plus it's sort of his too. He helped me get the parts for the modification.” Qui-Gon sighed. He knew the boy enough to know he wouldn't give up.

“Very, well. We'll take it with us.” he agreed reluctantly. “I'll see if we can promote your work with it.”

“Thanks, Qui-Gon sir.”

“Anakin! Get this thing off me, now.” They turned to see Obi-Wan trying to catch the small Droid without success.

Anakin laughed at the scene. “D-4, come here boy.”

The small Droid whirled around at the mention of its name. He looked at Anakin as if assessing him. Then he proceeded to hide behind Obi-Wan’s back.

Anakin frowned. He tried to approach the Droid. For every step he took the Droid flew further away. “Uh, oh.”

“I don't like the sound of that.” Obi-Wan said.

“Maybe I shouldn't have used the old R core we found.”

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face. “Why am I not surprised? Just tell me it won't follow me to the bathroom… or keep me awake… or-”

“It should be fine.” Anakin reassured him, not sounding too convinced himself. “You should be able to train it… in theory.” he muttered the last part.

Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a desperate look.

“Look at the bright side,” Qui-Gon smiled. “at least you don't have to feed it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1. Tatooine is described in its original state (Legends).[ return to text]  
> 2. FLD-2: Flying Little Droid two.[ return to text]  
> 3. FP-3: Fast Pod three.[ return to text]
> 
> * * *
> 
> Yes D-4 is more or less this AU's version of R-4. I couldn't pass the opportunity of having a droid following Obi-Wan around. If you're wondering, the droid looks similar to Bane's Todo 360. Next chapter should have all the remaining characters and more about the order. Tell me if you would like to see an interlude or stand alone of the Jawas incident Obi-Wan mentioned. I wanted to add it to this but I felt it would do better as its own thing.
> 
> Thanks for reading.  
> Kudos and comments are always welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things hardly ever go as Obi-Wan expect them to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than I expected, but hey better late than never.
> 
> As always many thanks to my friend DoomSymphony who despite not being a Star Wars fan always listen to my rambles.

 

“Don’t fall behind, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon urged when he noticed his son standing in the middle of the busy street.

“Sorry.” Obi-Wan said, falling in step with his father. “I’m surprised by how little the town has changed in a year.”

“You shouldn't be.” Qui-Gon said pulling the ginger closer when a Weequay pushing a cargo almost ran him over. “There’s neither money nor interest for change to happen. You will notice that very few places really change in the Outer Ring.”

There’s too much corruption was what Qui-Gon truly meant to say. The Outer Ring was rich in many of the universe’s most precious metals. Their problem wasn’t money, it was exploitation and corruption. If the Core could live its luxurious life it was thanks to the cheap labour and materials the Outer Ring provided at the cost of its people. Obi-Wan had known all this but he’d never thought it was as bad as to virtually stop the Outer Ring’s growth.

“How can the Republic turn a blind eye on this?”

Qui-Gon frowned slightly, eyes never diverting from the path in front.

“Those who can make a difference only have their own interest at heart. There’s little for them to gain from a reformation of the Outer Ring.”

Obi-Wan closed his fist in indignation, wishing there was something he could do to help.

“Don’t let it distract you, Obi-Wan. As Jedi our duty doesn't lie in meddling with the ruse that is politics, but on alleviating those subjected to it.” There was an almost imperceptible strain in Qui-Gon’s voice, one that Obi-Wan had come to associate to his grandfather.

The tense relationship his father shared with Dooku wasn't unknown to him. Over the years he'd heard the whispers that circulated the temple and had occasionally overheard some of the heated arguments between the two masters. In time he'd learned that much of their animosity came from their contrary views on politics and the role of the Jedi. The rift their beliefs had created between them was just too big for their affection to mend it. Obi-Wan dreaded the possibility of it happening to him and Qui-Gon one day.

A nudge on his side and a small questioning beep made him at look D-4.

“It’s nothing.” He answered, petting the droid’s round metallic head.

D-4 was awfully sensitive to his mood changes. He was also quick to take offense on his behalf, Garen often being the target of the small droid’s fury, much to Quinlan’s and Reeft’s amusement. It often made him wonder if Anakin had programmed it that way or if it was a natural quality of the droid.

“Anakin will think you didn’t want to come if you keep pouting like that.” Qui-Gon teased.

“I’m not pouting.” he denied loudly.

“Oh, I forgot. You’re too old for that.”

Obi-Wan pushed D-4 away when it let out a series of beeps that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“Traitors.” He muttered glaring at both of them.

Qui-Gon’s statement was nonetheless enough to renew his earlier excitement.

A year of missions had provided him with many stories and drawings to share with Anakin. He was particularly looking forward to telling the boy about their time in Alaris prime, where Qui-Gon had helped the Wookiees settle a colony. He'd been overjoyed as it was the first time he accompanied his father to a colonization mission. Sadly, he'd quickly realized how unexciting Qui-Gon’s part was. The Jedi’s duty had mostly consisted in classifying and cataloging the native species, in order to feed the wookiees and provide materials.

Even with years of being around Qui-Gon, or perhaps because of it, Obi-Wan found biology incredibly dull. By the end of the first week he'd taught D-4 how to do the majority of his duties. He’d then jumped at every opportunity of helping the wookiees, and had in return been adopted as a honorary member of the clan. Chewbacca had been especially eager to take the young Jedi under his wing after Obi-Wan drank himself to the floor with Accarrgm[4]. Qui-Gon hadn’t been happy to nurse his son the next morning and had lectured him for a week about the importance of moderation. But it had all been worth it when Chewy had declared him wookiee enough to help him explore.

It was on one of those explorations that they found a forgotten Jedi temple.

The discovery of a temple was a grand event among the Order. So much lore had been lost during the wars that every new information they could find was invaluable. His contribution earned him countless of praises from the High Council and from the archeological division. But none of the praises had been as satisfying as knowing that he’d been the first Jedi to walk the halls of the temple in more than a millennium. His only regret was that as a biologist the pleasure of studying the temple wouldn’t fall on Qui-Gon, and by extension not on him either.

As they reached the Skywalkers residence his steps began to falter. Not for for the first time he wondered if he would be welcomed. Their constant moving and Tatooine’s lack of proper communication had made it impossible to contact the boy. As far as he knew Anakin might not want him to stay with them anymore. He might have moved on, made new friends and developed new interests. Their time together had been great but it had ultimately been short. Too short for him to be sure of his place within the boy’s life.

He almost jumped when Qui-Gon cleared his throat.

“I hope we didn't come here just to stare at the door.” Qui-Gon teased, but Obi-Wan could see some worry in his eyes.

“I hope not, that would make the trip rather pointless.” Obi-Wan joked, while mentally berating himself for getting lost in thought. He moved to the old metallic door and knocked twice on it. When a minute passed without answer he knocked again, but the door remained stubbornly closed.

“Anakin’s probably in his workshop. I’ll go get him.”

“I’ll wait for you here in case they come back.” Qui-Gon said, sitting on the ground in a meditation pose.

“Alright. Let’s go D-4.”

He didn’t notice that someone had moved behind him and almost knocked the person when he turned.

“I’m so-”

“I knew it was you! I could recognize that silly haircut anywhere.” Kitster grinned in his usual good mood. Obi-Wan frowned trying to hide a grin of his own.

“It’s nice to see you too, Kitster.” He said with sarcasm.

“Don't be like that, I bet you missed me.” Kitster nudged the ginger’s side as he waggled his eyebrows. Obi-Wan lost the battle to the grin then.

“I missed you as much as my muddy boots on a rainy day.”

Kitster laughed loudly. “I see your humor reminds the same too.”

“I got something for you.” Obi-Wan said remembering his souvenirs. He kneeled down to search his backpack for Kitster’s gift.

“Oh! Hi, Mr. Jinn.” Kitster said finally catching a glance of the man.

“Good afternoon, Kitster.”

“Afternoon, sir. It’s good to see you.” the boy’s gaze quickly settled on D-4, who had been hovering around Qui-Gon. “Wow, Is that Ani’s droid?”

“Yeah, that’s D-4.” Obi-Wan answered as he grabbed the souvenir from the backpack.

“That’s so wizard! I didn’t believe him when he told me he’d made it work.” Kitster started walking towards the droid with extended hands and an awestruck face.

“Don’t!” Qui-Gon warned at the same time Obi-Wan yelled.

“Wait, Kitster! He’s-” A loud zap and Kitster’s yelp interrupted him. “... uncomfortable around new people.” he finished in a defeated tone.

“So mean.” Kitster moaned, nursing his wounded hand. The droid made an irreverent gesture towards the boy before hiding behind Obi-Wan’s back.

A group of children giggled at the display. “The droid knows a rascal when it sees one!” a blonde girl yelled.

“E chu ta, Melee!” Kitster shouted back. Obi-Wan smiled at the expletive. Anakin and Kitster had used it so much that he’d found himself repeating it at times.

“Don’t listen to them, D-4 is just very sensible,” he glared at the droid. “and very ill mannered.”

“Maybe you should scrap it and sell the pieces. They ought to give you something, even for that.” D-4 howled and charged at the boy, making Kitster yell in terror and hide behind Qui-Gon.

“Stop.” Obi-Wan said, grabbing the droid by its limbs. D-4 beeped long and loud and finally went back to hovering around its owner. The boy eyed it suspiciously but eventually came out from his hiding spot.

Obi-Wan offered the him the souvenir he’d been holding. “It’s a Wookiee bracelet.”

Kitster eyes sparked with excitement as he accepted the small wooden bracelet. He quickly put in on and smiled, the small incident already forgotten. “Thanks, Obi.”

“You're welcome.” Obi-Wan smiled at the sincerity and excitement of the boy. He tried not to think that it was probably one of the few gifts he’d received in his life. “I have something for Anakin too. Have you seen him?”

The uncharacteristic hurt expression Kitster gave him wasn't the answer he'd expected.

“Ani doesn’t live here anymore.” the boy admitted slowly. “Watto died three months after you left. Shmi was desperate to get a new job, so when this farmer came to town looking for help, they just packed and left.”

“What?” he said, trying to get past the initial shock. “Where do they live now?”

“I don’t know. I haven't seen him since they moved.”

“You don't know?” he repeated incredulously. “You're telling me he left without a word?”

“No. He said goodbye and that he would visit. He just never did.” Kitster frowned visibly hurt by it.

Obi-Wan tried to quell his own disappointment and bitterness in favor of comforting the boy. “That doesn't sound like him, Kitster. Maybe something stopped him from coming.”

The boy’s frown slowly disappeared and morphed into deep worry.

“Do you…” he swallowed. “Do you think the Tusken got him?”

So much for comforting the boy.

The worse part was that he couldn't help but share his distress. He'd heard stories about the Tusken raiders, the savage dwellers of the jungle. They were vicious and loved attacking unsuspecting farmers. It wasn't far fetched to think the Skywalker could've been attacked by them. The image of Anakin being tortured made him shudder.

Thankfully Qui-Gon deemed that an appropriate moment to intervene.

“I heard it was a good year for Tatooine's farmers. It might be that they were too busy to visit. Do you know if there's anyone in town who might know how to find them? ”

Kitster shrugged. “You can try asking around the town, but I doubt you’ll get much.” he paused. “The cantina might be your best shot.”

Qui-Gon sighed. “Thanks, Kitster.”

“Not a problem.” Kitster looked at Obi-Wan. “I would search with you but I have work to do. Tell Ani to visit if you find him.” Kitster gave him a last sad smile before leaving.

“We’ll find them, Obi-Wan.”

“What about your mission?” Qui-Gon hadn’t really planned for a prolonged stay. The plan had been to leave Obi-Wan with the Skywalkers until the end of the summer.

“Don't worry about it. I can delay it for a week.”

“But I do worry. You’ll earn another lecture and sanction from the council.”

“We’ll cross that bridge once we’re there. Remember, Obi-Wan, be-”

“Mindful of the currents of the living Force.” Obi-Wan finished with a smile. “I know.”

“Imp.” Qui-Gon tugged his son’s braid playfully. “We’ll see how much you like my lectures once you have your own children to teach.”

“You're assuming I'll have children.” Obi-Wan scoffed.

“You can always have a Padawan.”

“As if they’re any better.”

There was the ghost of a smirk on Qui-Gon’s lips. “Yoda will be so disappointed. I believe he keeps a list of all your potential Padawans.”

Obi-Wan looked at him horrified.

“A list!” He couldn’t decide if the idea of the green troll going over the younglings in search of a perfect match for his great-grandpadawan was hilarious or frightening. “Why doesn’t _he_ get a Padawan?”

“Each generation has the duty of training the next. Yoda’s time is long past, son.” Qui-Gon explained in his teaching voice, but he couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of it. “You might find the idea of teaching distasteful now, but you’ll make peace with it as you grow older.”

“Oh, believe me, you don’t want me teaching.” It just wasn't his thing. He'd tried helping Garen and Quin in history once and It'd been a disaster. “Next you will tell me grandfather keeps a list too. ”

“No,” Qui-Gon said and paused. “but he might keep a list of potential wives.”

This time he didn’t dare look at Qui-Gon, in case there was more than teasing in his words.

 

* * *

 

They asked every soul that’d crossed their path about the Skywalkers’ whereabouts, but just like Kitster had predicted there was little to learn on the town. The Skywalkers were well known, but nobody seemed to truly know them, or even care about them. Shmi had never built any long lasting friendship, and hadn’t spoken to anyone about their departure. For most of the town's residents they’d just banished.

He threw his head back against the tree he was resting on and closed his eyes helplessly. He hated waiting but Qui-Gon had insisted that he’d stay away from the cantina.

“I hope dad learns something useful.” He murmured at D-4, who replied with a nonsensical beep.

“I wonder why Anakin didn't leave any clues behind. Maybe he just didn't want us following him, maybe he just wanted to move on.” another set of nonsensical beeps.

He was silent for a moment. “You're right, that's not like him. I hope he's alright.” this time D-4 let out a long low beep that sounded much like a sigh. Obi-Wan imagined the Droid complaining about how troublesome and strange humans were. He could understand very little binary and imagining the meaning behind the beeps had soon become a pastime.

“I wonder what Master Yoda would say in moments like this…” he closed his eyes, focusing on his Yoda mental image. Some moments later he cleared his throat and said on his best Yoda impression. “When clear your mind is reveal itself the answer will.”

“I read speaking out loud to oneself can be a sign of dementia.” He jumped at the voice. Qui-Gon was looking down at him with plain amusement, while offering a small metallic can that read Muja juice. “Although I don't know if to worry about that or the fact that you seem to appreciate Yoda’s lectures more than mines.”

“It's the syntax. It makes it sound less boring.” He replied smugly, taking the offered beverage.

Qui-Gon shook his head. “I thought I'd taught you better, or at least to be more respectful.”

“I'd say you've taught me just fine, Mr. The council can stuff its opinion up its-”

“Just drink your juice, you insufferable imp.” Qui-Gon interrupted with faked exasperation.

Obi-Wan pushed his sweaty hair back and tried not to laugh as he drank.

“Did you learn anything?”

“I did.” the tall man said as he took a sit beside his son under the tree. “We’re going to Mos Eisley, to talk to the merchant guild. Many of the local farms have contracts with them to transport and distribute their goods. We might find some information there.”

Hope bloomed in his chest for the first time since their search began. Something told him that they were on the right track.

 

* * *

 

 “Let me make this clear. You don’t know the farm’s name, nor the owner’s name, not even what it produces. Only the name of a worker?”

Qui-Gon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes.”

The duro receptionist laughed hard, banging his fist against the desk. “You offworlders sure are funny.”

“Someone must visit the farms to pick up the goods. I only ask for a minute with this person.”

“Look, I’m sorry you can’t find it, but we all have our problems and business. And at the moment you’re interrupting my business and creating a problem.”

He hated dealing with merchants.

There was only one way of getting past their thick skull.

Qui-Gon grabbed a handful of Wupiupis and put them on the desk. “Just a minute.”

The man eyed the Wupiupis hungrily before smiling. “Ah, now we’re talking business. Follow me!”

Their short trip through the many corridors of the building ended in a small room with five men playing Sabacc. The five men interrupted their game to look at the newcomers with a mixture of curiosity and weariness.

“I take you’re the ones responsible for picking up the farms’ goods.”

“You guess right.” one of them said as he eyed him, hand close to his belt where a blaster rested. “What business do you have here?”

Qui-Gon measured his tone, making it as friendly as he could. “We're looking for a woman and her young son.”

Obi-Wan handed them a drawing he made. “Their names are Shmi and Anakin Skywalker. They were hired at a local farm almost a year ago.”

They relaxed at the words and took the drawing with a friendlier expression. Qui-Gon supposed their appearance and his core accent must have gave them the wrong impression. Force knew what shady business they were involved in. They all took their round to look at the sketch before handing it back to Obi-Wan.

“I’m sorry, they don’t look familiar.” The same man said, and the others seemed to agree with him.

Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan’s face drop for a second, his disappointment so strong in the Force that he could almost taste it.

“Thank you for your time.” He put a hand on his son shoulders and squeezed.

They would find another way.

“Look.” the man said abruptly. His eyes going briefly to Obi-Wan with a mixture of sadness and understanding. “We all have a sector assigned. The farm might be from one of the other guys.”

“When will they be back?”

“Some tomorrow, some next week. It’s hard to say, shippings can be delayed by many things. You’re very lucky to find the five of us together. There’s hardly ever more than two of us reporting at a time.” he motioned for the drawing in Obi-Wan’s hand. “Why don’t you let us keep that. We’ll make it go around and see if anyone knows anything. You can come by next week to see if we’ve found something.”

As much as he appreciated the help and wanted to agree to the terms he couldn't postpone his mission any more than a week.

“I don’t want to impose but we’re leaving in two standard days. Is there any way to get it done faster?”

The man shook his head. “I'm sorry, some of the sectors are days away from here and have as many as twenty farms. You can either wait for them or visit the farms yourself.”

Obi-Wan tugged at Qui-Gon’s tunic and whispered. “Why don’t we come back after Ryloth? We can petition for two weeks off and do this right.”

There was a sense of forewarning in the force, it whispered Qui-Gon that he needed to stay and find them. Normally he would listen to it, but he was worried about the dying crops of the farms of Ryloth. The more he delayed the mission the more people that could potentially famish. At this point all they could do was wait for the information, it ought not to be such a difference whether they waited in Tatooine or Ryloth.

“That might be our best option.” He turned back to the man. “Is it alright if we ask you to hold the information for a month?”

“Sure.”

 

* * *

 

“Welcome to Lessu, master Jedi.” an orange Twi’lek greeted them as soon as they stepped inside the palace’s great hall.

Qui-Gon bowed slightly and Obi-Wan followed the lead.

The Twi’lek and his companion vowed back with a certain amount of awkwardness that suggested they weren't used to it.

“Thanks for having us, Vishna[5] Syndulla.”

“No, thank _you_ for your help. The people of Ryloth are very grateful to the Order. We submitted our case to the Senate months ago, but I fear it's been lost in bureaucracy. We have resigned ourselves to a famine, until the Order extended its hands.”

The pride Obi-Wan felt for the Order did little to ease his anger against the Senate. He never stopped being surprised by their utter incompetence. He took a deep breath and repeated Qui-Gon’s words on Tatooine for himself.

His duty was helping, not minding politics.

“How's the situation with the crops?”

The Twi’lek’s lips turned down in displeasure.

“Not any better. The disease has already spread from the South of the La’tab region. There's panic that it'll soon reach the fungi farms of the north. We're much doomed if it does.”

“We'll need to work swiftly then. How soon can we be transported to the origin?”

“Not soon enough, I fear. You arrive at a bad time. A storm has cut all passage to the south, we'll have to wait for it to pass.”

“I see.” Qui-Gon said with a frown. “Do you have any samples of the infected crops that we could work with meanwhile?”

“We do.” The green younger Twi’lek at Syndulla’s side intervened. “I'm Silais Rar. I've been assigned to assist you during your stay, Master Jinn.”

“It's a pleasure Vishna Rar.”

“Please, call me Silais.” the young twi'lek said sheepishly. “I'm a great admirer of your work. It's an honor to serve under your guidance.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, it was unusual for them to find anyone interested in the Jedi outside of Coruscant's scholars.

Qui-Gon’s soft laugh echoed the empty hall.

“The pleasure is all mine. I look forward to working together.”

“I'll leave you two to work. Silais should help you with anything you might need. I'll try to make the visit to the South happen as soon as possible.” Syndulla gave them a small last bow before leaving.

“Oh, This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, my son. He will be helping us.” Qui-Gon explained when he caught the Young Twi’lek staring at Obi-Wan. Silais looked a little confused, probably because of the different surnames, but he'd the decency of not bringing it up.

“Nice to meet you, Vishna Rar.” Obi-Wan said with a swallow bow.

The twi’lek smiled and gave him an allover that made his hairs stand in embarrassment. “Silais, please. And the pleasure is all mine.”

Obi-Wan was sure his face was about to combust. Twi’leks were known for their open sexuality but he'd never expected to be at the end of one of their flirt. He didn't think himself ugly, but he never thought he was anything beyond average. Definitely not handsome enough to attract a twi’lek’s attention.

Silais eyes lingered on him a little longer before he turned back to Qui-Gon.

“I've compiled all the information we have so far.” He handed Qui-Gon a pad.

“Thanks, do you have any records of previous diseases in the area?”

“I thought you would ask. I went ahead and saved it in the pad too.” Silais said proudly. “But I fear the records are only 500 years old. A fire destroyed anything older.”

“That's very unfortunate.” Qui-Gon said not too pleased. “But it will have to do.”

“Actually,” Silais said with a glint of excitement in his eyes. “we know the Jedi kept a separate record within their temple. We've hoped you would have access to it.”

Qui-Gon rubbed his chin in thought before nodding. “I might be able to get a copy.”

“Good.” He turned slightly towards Obi-Wan. “You must be tired from the trip. Please, allow me to escort you to your chambers.”

“That would be very welcomed.” Qui-Gon said and Obi-Wan couldn't agree more. They had barely rested in a month, he was particularly looking forward to sleeping in a real bed.

The Jedi master let the young twi'lek go ahead before giving his son a knowing look and smile. Obi-Wan blushed even more and ducked his head, hurrying after their host.

Qui-Gon could be such a tease when he wanted.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan ran a finger over the warm stone. The inscriptions under his fingertips was clear and readable despite the many trials they'd surely withstanded over the years. The technique behind their engraving was highly sophisticated, as was to be expected of a Jedi temple.

“The stone feels warm. Is it force sensitive?”

“It might be, but it wasn't unusual for the old temples to have systems of hot water to regulate the temperature.”

“Would they work still? This temple must be some thousands years old.”

“They were built to endure the passing of time.”  

He’d hoped for a more detailed explanation, but it was to be expected. History wasn’t really Qui-Gon’s interest, and his father didn't seem to be in the mood to explain anything more complex than that. He hadn't been pleased when master Nuu had told him there wasn't such a record in the Jedi archives. Silais insisted the Jedi had one and had begged them to search for it in the old Lessu temple.

Hence how they ended up there.

“Do you think D-4 scanner can get through the stone?”

“You could try, but I doubt it can.”  He resisted the urge to pout. He understood Qui-Gon’s frustration but the man was being less than helpful.

“I wish Quinlan was here.” He murmured. When Qui-Gon looked at him pointedly he knew he hadn't said it low enough.

“Padawan Vos isn't old enough to be doing any reading. Even if he was you shouldn't be using his ability at your convenience.”

“I know.” he replied sheepishly. “But for the record I'm not using it at my convenience. He's the one who insists on reading my souvenirs.”

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow.

“Have you ever considered that he might be doing it to appeal to you?”

Obi-Wan stared at Qui-Gon like he had grown another head. The man obviously didn't know Quinlan. Quinlan Vos would never seek for anyone's approval and would never do anything he didn't want to do. That was exactly what Master Tholmes always complained about.

“What makes you think that?”

“Consider that the subject for your next meditation.” Obi-Wan groaned. “In any case psychometry isn't the only way to unravel mysteries. In fact, it should be your last option.”

“I know.”

The Kiffar agreement had been one of Dooku's most important contributions to the Order. It'd been an amendment to the infamous Jedi bill, which exempted from the ban the use of Force abilities natural to a species. The main reason for the Senate to pass it had been, as the name suggested, the Kiffars’ psychometry, which Dooku had proved to be very useful for recovering lost technology and knowledge. There were however many limitations on its use. Even if Quinlan didn't talk about it, Obi-Wan knew his training involved many things non-kiffar weren't instructed in.

“If you're so interested in the temples mysteries you should visit the archives.” Qui-Go paused. “Or perhaps you should could ask father for help.”

“But he's always busy.” A young Obi-Wan had quickly learned that asking his grandfather for attention would only earn him a scowl and a cold dismissal.

“I'm sure he'll make some time for you if I ask him.”

“I would like that.” Obi-Wan paused remembering his last temple assignment. “Do you think he would help me with my philosophy report? Master Tella recommended his article on the Dai Bendu and the balance of the Force.”

Qui-Gon stopped his search to look at him with mild surprise.

“That's a very controversial piece. I didn’t know they were recommending it to the Padawans now.”

The young Jedi rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Well… not really. I choose the theme and master Tella reluctantly gave the recommendation. I don't think she was too happy about it. I heard her murmur something about the damn Yoda lineage and their eccentric ideas.”

Qui-Gon gave him an amused look. “She was never a fan of father. I remember her engaging in numerous debates with him and master C’baoth.”

“Sounds fun.” He teased, knowing how boring master Tella speeches could be.

Qui-Gon smiled, gaze distant as if he became lost within an old memory.

“It was hell. I napped through many of them, much to father's annoyance.” All playfulness left his father’s features as he spoke next. “Obi-Wan, have you thought about your specialization?”

He blinked at the sudden question. “Not really.”

“You have to present your choice by next quarter.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll think about it.” There was a moment of silence and Obi-Wan thought it would be the end of the conversation.

“You'll need to consider a foster master. I'm hardly adequate to teach you, shall you decide to go for a non biology related specialization.”

So it would be another of those conversations.

He took a deep breath.

He disliked them so much.

“I don't want a foster master. I can read about anything you don't know.”

Qui-Gon’s face remained impassive as if expecting the small outburst.

“Not even your grandfather? He wants to complete your training.”

That made him stare at the tall man in disbelief.

“I thought he didn't want another Padawan.” It was common knowledge that Dooku had refused to take any Padawan after adopting Qui-Gon.

“You're his grandson.” Qui-Gon said as if that explained it all. He didn't think it would make a difference for the Count. He wasn’t even sure his grandfather liked him. It was hard to see past his aloof facade.

“I… I'll think about it.” he would be a fool if he didn't. Training under Master Dooku was a privilege many would fight for.

Qui-Gon nodded and for a moment he almost looked sad. Obi-Wan frowned and was about to question him when Qui-Gon spoke again, smile back in place.

“It might take a while to find the records. Why don't you go explore the temple?”

“It would be faster if we both look.” he said, not quite managing to hide his excitement at the offer.

“You might not have another opportunity to explore it.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip in an inner struggle between duty and pleasure.

He let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, come on D-4.”

“Be mindful. The temple might be old but there are many traps still lurking in it.”

“I'll be careful.”

“And don't torture D-4 too much.” the droid chirped happily at the remark.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, so much for his alleged dislike of droids.

He made his way through the many chambers, carefully. He wasn't sure what to expect. He'd read how the temples tested the old Jedi and knew that any trap would be a product of the Force and unique to each individual. He tried to feel any trouble ahead but the Force was silent.

He stopped at a particularly decorated chamber.

“Can you record the scriptures on this one D-4?” the droid gave an affirmative beep before flying away to do the task.

Obi-Wan lowered himself to the ground and got his sketch pad from the backpack. He was five minutes into his drawing when D-4 let out an uncharacteristic excited beep.

“What is it?” a set of beeping too fast for him to understand made his lips thin in annoyance. “I ought to study more binary.” he muttered.

The droid pushed at him and pointed at some marks on the floor right in front of the left far wall. It looked like something heavy had been dragged over the floor, repeatedly, but there was nothing moveable in the room. He took a closer look at the wall, trying to figure out the meaning behind the marks. A sudden rumble startled him and he observed in shock as the wall retracted before slowly sliding behind the wall at its side.

“That wasn’t me.” he replied when D-4 gave a confused beep.

The complete darkness that awaited behind the wall was unexpected and a little disturbing. Such a dark place didn't seem to belong in a temple of light.

“I think we should go get father.” he told the droid and going by the lack of protest, D-4 agreed with him. He turned around and picked up his backpack from the floor.

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

The echo of footsteps froze him in place. He turned back to stare at the darkness and found it staring back at him with a pair of glowing yellow eyes. A sharp hiss interrupted the sound of the footsteps and the darkness was broken by the red light of a blade. A chill rose in his body. No… Not any blade.

A lightsaber.

The weapon of the old order.

The emblem of the Great Wars.

There weren't any lightsabers anymore. They had all been dismantled and banned after the wars. The possession of one would land anyone to a life sentence in the Prism. Only a madman would use one. The red tattooed Zabrak that emerged from the dark passage looked just like the definition of insane.

When the Zabrak raised the blade over his head, Obi-Wan remained unmoving. He was trapped between the horror that the scene depicted and the knowledge that it couldn't be anything but a vision. Or at least he thought so until D-4 let out a sharp electronic scream and pushed him out of the way of the blade.

His eyes traveled from the scorch marks on his side up the length of the red blade to meet the yellow eyes. The Zabrak’s eyes glowed with bloodlust and excitement. He decided then that he didn't care if it all was an elaborated test of courage. He ran for his life. There was a thin line between courage and foolishness, and he'd rather be a coward than a dead man.

“D-4!” the droid beeped in acknowledgement and dashed towards its master. Then the droid stilled. It beeped frantically, struggling without success against an invisible grip. The Zabrak free hand was lifted, palm extended towards D-4, and Obi-Wan understood. He was using the Force.

In one smooth motion he cut the droid in two.

“No!” D-4 broken pieces hit the soil with a last low beep. Obi-Wan turned again and ran. Tears clouded his vision and he wiped them roughly. His legs almost gave away when he reached Qui-Gon.

A smile appeared on his father's face when he noticed the boy.

“I was about to go look for you. It to-” the man huffed when his son crashed against his chest.

“Obi-Wan?”

Words couldn't get past the knot in his throat. He pointed towards the door from which he had come from with trembling hands. Qui-Gon frowned at him half worried, half confused.

“What is it?”

Obi-Wan finally dared glance back and realized that there was no one behind him. A painful laugh left his throat. A bloody vision, he thought with much self despise. D-4 was probably fussing at him on the other room.

“Obi-Wan, ar-” Qui-Gon paused abruptly, his body suddenly rigid. Obi-Wan wondered what had happened when he heard the distinctive hiss of the lightsaber getting closer. Soon the Zabrak appeared from behind the columns and walls, smiling like a hunter who knew he'd already secured his prey.

Qui-Gon pushed him away from his chest.

“Obi-Wan, go back to the palace and contact the council.”

He stared in shock at Qui-Gon.

“I can't leave you!” he grabbed the man's arm desperately, tugging at it, urging him to run with him.

“Obi-Wan, go!”

“No! I won't leave you behind!” How could Qui-Gon even ask that. He would rather die there with him than leave him.

A strong hand teared him away from his father's side, and then an invisible Force pushed him all the way to the other room. He was standing on the other side of the door before he could make any sense of what had happened. When he met his father's eyes they were downcast and apologetic, barely visible behind the silhouette of his extended hand.

Obi-Wan shook his head. It wasn't true. His father would never practice the arts of the wars. It had to be a lie. It had to…

The door rumbled in tune with Qui-Gon’s lowering hand. Obi-Wan ran as fast as his legs could carry him, but by the time me made it to the door, it had already closed.

Tears trailed down the already stained path of his cheeks. He pressed his forehead to the stone, letting the cold kiss his skin in a futile attempt to sooth the fire of Qui-Gon’s betrayal. Not that it mattered, he'd already burned and after the fire there would only be the ashes of a boy who had thought he understood the world.

Because Obi-Wan was a farce.

He was a lie.

He was the son of a criminal.

_“Don't cry, my little Obi.”_

his breath hitched. He looked up expecting to find the familiar face of his mother, and meet instead the stone door separating him from his father.

But he could feel the echo of a memory in his mind. If he closed his eyes he could see her smile and the wrinkles on her face. Her smooth dark skin, and its warm softness under his fingertips. The warm touch of her lips on his forehead, and her gentle voice as she coaxed him into beating his fears.

Her light wrapped itself around him and he basked in the peace that'd always accompanied it. In his center he could see clearly, and knew the force had given him a choice. He could die with the fire or he could raise from the ashes, not as the boy he'd been but as the man he was yet to become. It wasn't really much of a choice.

Because Obi-Wan was stubborn.

He was a fighter.

He was a Jedi.

He searched his backpack for anything helpful and found a bottle of sulfuric acid and some flasks they used for cleaning and taking samples. If there had been any time for him to be grateful of the wide range of materials they used in biology it was now. He prepared the weapon carefully, hands shaking slightly with fear and adrenaline. He secured two of the liquid full flasks on his pouch and held a third on his hand.

“Come for me you moof-milker.” He shouted at the door, before hiding behind a pillar’s right side.

What felt like an eternity passed before the door opened. The sound of the unfamiliar steps and the hiss of the lightsaber made his heart cry in grief. Despite the odds he'd hoped that Qui-Gon could've somehow defeated the Zabrak.

But now wasn’t the time to grieve.

Obi-Wan emerged from behind the pillar and threw the flask at the Zabrak, who moved away from its trajectory with much grace and no surprise. He fumbled with the second flask but an invisible hand pushed him brusquely towards the far wall. His head hit the stone and his vision flashed white with pain. The flask slipped from his fingers and hit the stone beneath, spilling some of the acid on Obi-Wan’s boots. He didn’t have time to worry about it as the red blade was coming for his head. He twisted out of the way and kicked the Zabrak with all his strength. The animal grunted and staggered back.

Obi-Wan took the opportunity to grab the third and last flask, and raised his arm ready to throw it. The Zabrak charged at him and took a hold of the ginger’s raised arm at the same time Obi-Wan grabbed the arm holding the lightsaber. The enemy was stronger than Obi-Wan, much more stronger. The young Jedi was losing ground quickly, muscles trembling with exertion and close to giving out. He was painfully aware that if he didn't come up with a plan soon he would die. In a last reckless move he let go of the Zabrak’s arm and moved just in time to miss the lightsaber. Surprise made his adversary’s grip on his arm falter and Obi-Wan smashed the flask against the Zabrak’s open face with total abandon.

They cried in unison as glass cut through their flesh and acid burned their skin.

“I'll kill you!” The Zabrak yelled as he covered his eyes, pain and rage twisting his features.

Obi-Wan kicked him again, and the Zabrak hit the floor with an animalistic shout. He didn't wait for him to react before taking the lightsaber from his hand. The young Jedi raised it over his head ready to land the last strike, eager to be done with the thing that had already taken so much from him.

And then their eyes met.

There wasn't a shadow of fear in the Zabrak’s bloodshot eyes, even at the face of his imminent death. There was only hate in them. Obi-Wan’s anger dissipated. For the first time he could see him out of the shadows of deception. He was a child, no older than Obi-Wan himself. A child who had so little in life that the only thing he could hold to in death was the hate for the enemy that had defeated him.

Obi-Wan deactivated and lowered the lightsaber.

The Zabrak’s hollow and twisted laugh echoed the chamber.

“Coward.” He wheezed, before spitting on the floor.

“I'd much rather be a coward than a monster like you.”

The Jedi moved to his forgotten backpack and kneeled in front it. He took his boot off and almost grimaced at the state of his toes. He grabbed his canteen and poured the water on his hand and foot. The water was fire on his burned skin and he gritted his teeth in pain until it'd passed. He paused, for a moment debating with himself the Zabrak’s fate. He grabbed his emergency water bottle and threw it towards the other boy before bolting to the next room.

There laid Qui-Gon Jinn’s broken body.

He crossed the distance between them in a hurry and kneeled in front of his father. There was a hole in his chest, but he was breathing, short and labored. His death wouldn't be merciful, and Obi-Wan sobbed in impotence. The sound made the brunet man open his tired eyes and look at Obi-Wan. With much effort Qui-Gon lifted a hand to touch his son's face.

“Don't.” Obi-Wan rasped, holding the hand with his unburned one. “Hold your strength. I'll go get a healer.”

Qui-Gon gave the boy a weak smile and shook his head. “Proud.” and with a last effort he touched Obi-Wan’s chest. “Strength.”

With those last words the Jedi master closed his eyes, each new breath coming weaker than the previous. Obi-Wan held him close as they both waited for the last of them.

 

* * *

 

Every Jedi in the temple was present in the grand antechamber. Their eyes downcast as the guards escorted the body of their fallen brother. Obi-Wan remembered a similar reception a few years ago, when he and Qui-Gon had walked that same path with Tahl’s corpse. He’d held his father’s hand tightly, feeling useless and heartbroken. Qui-Gon had later told him, on one of those rare occasions where he mentioned his wife’s death, that he’d helped him just by being there. Obi-Wan thought his father was being nice to him, but now he knew otherwise.

Obi-Wan would give anything for someone to hold his hand and remind him that he wasn't alone.

When the doors to the Council’s chambers opened, Obi-Wan was greeted by the grief stricken faces of the council members. He gave a quick almost irreverent bow, before his eyes settled on the figure standing in the middle of the room.

“Obi-Wan.” the name sounded like an apology on the man’s lips.

“Grandfather.” he replied in a voice hoarse from lack of use. Dooku rested his hand on his shoulder and Obi-Wan had to stop himself from leaning into it, knowing the gesture wouldn’t be appreciated. He turned back to the council.

“One of our best, Qui-Gon was. Mourn for him the whole order will, but allow the pain to flow we must. Luminous beings are we and in the force we all belong.” He nodded at master Yoda in acknowledgment but said nothing in return.

“What will happen to the Zabrak?” Dooku asked as straight to the point as always.

“He will stand trial as a Force user and murderer in the military tribunal.” Mace answered with his usual impassive face and tone.

“He killed a Jedi. His fate should be ours to decide.”

“We aren’t law enforcers, Master Dooku. His fate will be decided by the court and the Force.” Sifo-Dyas chastised.

While the face of Dooku remained unperturbed the grip on his shoulder tightened.

“You’re a fool if you believe this is the will of the Force.”

“Enough.” Yoda said hitting the floor with his cane. “Come here to discuss politics we did not.” he turned to Obi-Wan. “Tell us about the Zabrak you must.”

“Yes, master.” He let the words flow through his lips in an almost automatic manner. His mind recalled the events that had lead to his father’s death, but he stared at the memories from afar, devoid of emotions as if he’d been just a neutral spectator. When his report finished, the expression of grief in the occupants of the room had morphed to one of deep worry.

“Do you have the lightsaber?” He nodded and fished his backpack for the accursed weapon.

With the hilt extended in front of him he activated it. A muffled gasp echoed the chamber. He could only imagine how grim image he made at the moment. Face bathed in the red light of the Sith blade, pale from lack of rest and devoid of emotions. The mere thought made him sick. He deactivated the lightsaber and handed it to the waiting hand of Master Windu.

 “Thanks Padawan.” Mace said as he examined the weapon. “You have given us much to think about.”

Obi-Wan knew a dismissal when he heard one, but there was something he still needed to ask.

“With your permission masters. What will happen to me now?” Yoda and Mace shared a look, but it was Dooku who answered.

“You’ll be coming with me to Serenno.”

The surprise that crossed everyone’s but Yoda’s face wasn’t missed by Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan wasn't surprised himself.

“Have you taken a leave to your senses, Dooku? The boy is a Padawan and should remain within the order until his training is complete.” master Piell said not too kindly.

“It’s you who forgets that I too am a Jedi.”

“A Jedi who's retired himself from duty, and who spends his days among politicians. You're a Jedi only in name.” Obi-Wan was slightly taken aback by the words. He knew his grandfather’s stance wasn't popular among many masters, but to hear a member of the council attack him so openly was beyond anything he'd imagined. Dooku on the other hand remained unfazed by the accusation.

“Spare me the lecture, master Piell. I know the rules, there's nothing stopping me from taking him as my Padawan. Unless you've expelled me without notification.”

“Master-padawan partnerships still need the approval of the council.” master Koon reminded him.

“And under what pretense would you disapprove of it? Will you claim I'm not good enough to teach him? Or that our interests do not align?”

“No, we'll forbid it as long as you insist in taking him to Serenno. We’ve already discussed this with Qui-Gon, keeping the boy away from the temple any more than necessary is a direct threat to his progress.” Mace reproached.

“Forbid it?” Dooku repeated with amusement, as if the motion was not only absurd but hilarious. “Must I remind you that I am his guardian by Republic’s laws? If it pleases you we can settle this in the civil court.”

“Are you threatening us, Dooku?” Sifo-Dyas said with as much surprise as Obi-Wan felt at the words.

Over the years there had been cases of parents that had wanted their child back after giving them to the order. By Republic's laws they held no jurisdiction and thus the court would always favor the Jedi as long as the child didn’t express the true desire of going back to the progenitors. Obi-Wan’s case was different as he'd been adopted by Qui-Gon and was a Dooku by law.

There were no precedents of a Jedi taking the order to court. Obi-Wan knew that if it happened, the judges would favor Dooku. But the result wasn't as important as the consequences. It would show a divide among the order and would bring many to question the already scrutinized organization. That Dooku was willing to even suggest it spoke volumes of his rumored dislike of the Council.

“I’m merely stating the facts.” Dooku finally answered breaking the heavy silence that had congested the room.

As was usual in times of difficulties, the eyes of the counselors turned towards their diminutive leader.

Yoda sighed.

“A padawan’s privilege to accept a Master it is. Obi-Wan’s choice to accept Dooku’s offer it is.”

“I will go with Master Dooku to Serenno.” There had never been any other option, Obi-Wan wouldn't let the matter go to court. And even without that in mind he would have chosen Dooku. It was after all what he’d discussed with his father.

“There’re still many test and assignments you need to complete.” Mace reminded, obviously not happy about the turn of events.

“We’ll make sure he’s here to take them. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” Dooku bowed and turned without further decorum. Obi-Wan bowed and turned to follow his new master out of the chambers.

“Jard,” Sifo-Dyas’ voice stopped them just outside of the room. “a moment if you may.”

Dooku nodded before turning to his grandson with his ever aloof facade.

“Pack and say your goodbyes. We leave this evening.”

 

* * *

 

There was very little for him to pack. A Jedi only possessed the necessary to survive. He was already half way through his things when a knock interrupted him. He wasn’t surprised to find Bant on the other side of the door.

“Can I come in?” she asked voice wavering slightly. He stepped aside and guided her to the kitchen.

“Would you like some Jeru?[6]” He forced himself to offer. He wasn't really in the mood to chat or entertain any visitors but that might as well be the last time he saw her in many months.

“Yes, please.” she answered, looking as awkward as he was feeling.

Neither of them seemed eager to break the silence that settled as he worked. It took for him to almost spill the hot water in his one handed clumsiness for her to break it.

“Let me help.” Bant said reaching for the kettle.

“I'm fine!” he snapped, tired of his own uselessness. He regretted it instantly when Bant pulled her hand away as if burned by the words, her eyes wide with fear.

The expression jolted him and finished breaking any wall he’d left around his heart.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered, “I'm so sorry, Bant.” He rested his weight on the counter. Tears finally flowed from his eyes, bitter with grief and sour with self depreciation.

Bant slim arms were instantly around him and he pulled her closer, hiding his face on her shoulders. They slid down the counter and she held him as he cried his heart out. Minutes passed before he stopped trembling, and even beyond that they just remained there with her petting his auburn hair.

“You missed Quinlan’s promotion.” she said after a while. “Garen was pouting for a whole week. He thought he would become a senior Padawan before him.”

It was their usual routine. She would always update him on the latest temple gossips when he arrived from his missions. The only thing absent were his usual sarcastic remarks, but the petit Mon calamari didn't seem to mind as she continued her tales.

It was much later when Bant finally asked.

“How did he die?”

“I'm sorry that's-”

“Classified.” she finished. “That's what my master told me. It's all they're telling us.”

“I'm sorry.”  He repeated.

He wished he could tell her more. Qui-Gon had been a father figure for her. Before his mother had died, she’d considered taking Bant as a Padawan. That made her the closest thing to a sibling he would ever have. Even after Tahl’s death Qui-Gon had kept her close. He would have probably taken her as a Padawan himself if the council would have allowed it. But with the wreck he’d been after his wife's passing, it was a miracle they’d let him keep custody of Obi-Wan, let alone another child.

Bant traced a path on his bandaged hand with a soft finger, probably going over all the awful scenarios that could have led to it.

“What will happen to you now? Will you move to the Padawans dormitories?”

“No, I’m leaving with grandfather.”

Her finger stilled. “He's taking you away from the order?”

“No, he's taking me as his Padawan.”

A sound from outside of the small apartment stopped Bant from replying. Bant frowned and moved to open the door.

Two boys yelped in surprise as they fell face first onto the floor.

Bant stared at them unimpressed. “You two have no manners at all.”

“It was his idea.” Garen said shoving Quinlan off him.

“My idea?” the kiffar replied, pushing back at the other boy. “This has your name all over it, Muln.”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, a deep frown on his face. Garen and Quin looked at him then they looked at each other and with a last shove they separated.

“I can't believe Master Dooku will teach you!” Garen said pulling him into a playful headlock. “That's the wet dream of more than half of the initiates right there.”

“You don't even like any of his specializations.”

“Who cares about specializations, the man's a legend! He’s responsible for the rediscovery of a third of the Jedi temples.”

“And the Kiffar agreement.” Bant added with a hint of excitement in her voice.

“And the end of the Mandalorian civil war.” Garen continued.

“I know.” he removed Garen’s arms from around him. He didn't like talking about his grandfather's and his father's many accomplishments. It made him feel slightly inadequate and very self conscious. “Where’s Reeft anyway?”

“In the dining hall where else.” Quinlan answered, smelling the jar of Jeru and wrinkling his face in disgust. “He said he wanted to get you some Canapés.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan answered, feeling slightly out of breath. Reeft never shared his food with anyone. For him to offer someone a Canapé was the biggest honor one could receive. His eyes glazed a little. He had been a fool to think he was alone when he had so many people that would do anything to help him. As if reading his mind Bant took his good hand and squeezed it. He'd to bite his lip hard to stop himself from sobbing. He wouldn't survive the embarrassment of crying in front of Garen and Quin.

Garen looked around as if searching for something.

“Where’s the droid?”

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched, and for a moment he was back in Ryloth staring at hateful yellow eyes.

“Kenobi?” Quinlan’s worried voice snapped him out of the vision.

“I'm fine.” He moved past Quinlan and fetched his backpack. He was probably breaking some rule by showing them D-4’s remnants, but the droid had been… their friend. They deserved that much.

“What!” Garen said in pure disbelief when Obi-Wan dropped the droid pieces on the table.

“What happened to it?” Bant asked with the same astonishment. He was about to reply when she interrupted him “I know, classified.”

“This wasn’t what I had in mind when I told you to fix the little junk.” Garen said grabbing a piece of the droid.

“Believe me, it wasn't planned.”

Obi-Wan eyes followed Quinlan as the Kiffar approached the remnants. He traced the edge of the burned metal with a gloved finger. Obi-Wan could see the itch to read it in his eyes, and was grateful that he couldn't. It was bad enough that Obi-wan was having nightmares about it, no need to bring Quinlan aboard.

“I think I can fix it for you.” Garen said examining the piece.

“You can?” _Of course he can._ He thought right after he asked. Garen was specializing in piloting and technology.

“Sure. It’s a pretty clean cut, It sliced just a few parts.” he examined the droid again. “Give me two days in the workshop and I’ll have it as good as new.”

Two days…

“I’m leaving this evening.” Everyone paused for a moment, letting the knowledge sink and settle.

“Well… I can’t do magic.”  Garen dropped the parts, and Obi-Wan pushed them back to him.

“Keep it. It will be something to look forward the next time we see each other.”

His friend was visibly moved for a moment, but his characteristic grin was soon back in place.

“You have become such a sap.” He said ruffling Obi-Wan’s hair and Obi-Wan scoffed in answer.

“I have something for you.” He said remembering the Wookiee souvenirs.

He grabbed a set of identical amulets from the backpack, eyes lingering for a moment on the remaining amulet. He would probably never go back to Tatooine now, he would never learn the boy's fate, and he would never see him again. The knowledge burdened his already pained heart, and he looked away knowing there was nothing he could do.

He just wished things were different.

“Here.” he handed an amulet to each of them, leaving Reefts’ on the table.

“Wookiee amulets?” Garen smirked. “You have become a bigger sap than I thought.”

“Stop teasing, Garen.” Bant reprimanded. “Thanks, Obi. It’s very thoughtful of you.”

“You carved them?” Quin asked, eyeing his carefully.

“Yes.” Kallabow had insisted he did them as some kind of wookiee bonding exercise.

“They're pretty good. Thanks, Kenobi.”

 

* * *

 

Later after Reeft had barged in and they had all eaten Canapés with tea and juice, just before they left. Quinlan stopped by the door looking uncharacteristically shy.

“I almost forgot.” The kiffar took something from his robe’s inner pocket and dropped it on Obi-Wan’s hand. It was an old medallion made of a blue ore and carved with pattern similar to a holocron.

“I know that wookiees exchange amulets as a sign of friendship, so you can have this one in return. I picked it up in the Jedi temple on Tython. I have no idea what it is, maybe you can figure it out.”

Obi-Wan smiled and ran a finger over the medallion’s decorated surface.

“Thanks, Quin.”

The Kiffar shrugged.

“By the way, I decided to specialize in archeology.”

“I thought you would.” Kiffars had very limited options for specializations, most of them related to the technology division. But Quinlan had never been particularly fond of technology and Obi-Wan very much doubted he could be confined to a research lab. Archeology was the most logical specialization for him.

“Yeah, too bad I need a partner. Keep an eye for me on any know-it-all with a love for history and exploration.”

Obi-Wan lips twitched at the obvious invitation.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Quinlan nodded. “Take care Kenobi. Don’t get too comfy in your lord robes.”

 

* * *

 

“Master Dooku, I finally catch you.” The soft voice caught Obi-Wan’s attention and he peeked at the recently arrived figure from his spot at the ship’s side.

Dooku smiled politely at the other man. “It's been a while old friend.”

“Too long I'd said. Although I wish we'd met on better circumstances. I'm terribly sorry for your loss.”

Dooku's smile faltered for a brief moment.

“Thanks, Senator.”

“Qui-Gon was an incredible man, very gentle and bright. He always left friends where he went and his researches helped so many worlds. He will be missed dearly my friend, never doubt it.” the man continued letting grief touch his gentle voice.

“I hope that appreciation extends to the court. His murderer deserves no mercy.”

“I promise you they won’t be lenient. There's no lost love for Force Users and murderers, regardless of their age and status.”

Obi-Wan’s hand shook at the word Force User. The bag he had been holding slipped from his fingers, landing on the ground with a heavy thud.

“Is that your grandson?” the man said finally noticing him.

“Yes, that’s him.” Dooku smiled and motioned for Obi-Wan to approach.

“I almost didn't recognize him. He's grown so much.”

“Thanks, senator…” he blushed, he didn't recognize the red headed man. Qui-Gon had never pushed him to learn the senators faces or names.

“Palpatine.” The man said offering a hand which Obi-Wan took hurriedly.

“He's an old friend of the family.” Dooku said. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to point out that if it were so he would have heard of him.

“Don't worry, I didn't expect you to remember me. You had just learned to crawl the last time we saw each other.” The senator touched his shoulder, eyes full of sadness as he stared at him. “I'm very sorry for all that’s happened to you. I understand very well what you're going through. I became an orphan myself at nineteen. It's a fate I wished no one had to share with us.”

“Th-thanks.” Obi-Wan said feeling uneasy. Despite his kind words there was something amiss about the man. He couldn't place what it was but he wanted nothing more than to get away from him.

“I'll be keeping an eye on you. I'm sure your career will be exciting, coming from such as prestigious line as Master Dooku’s.”

His grandfather smiled at the compliment.

“I'm sure it will.”

Obi-Wan tried not to think about what that meant for him.

 

* * *

 

A set of robes was already waiting for him on the bed of his chamber when they arrived in Serenno. The soft silky material hugged his frame with grace, even without the cape, he looked taller, imposing, and dignified. The traditional dark colors only helped enhance the image, highlighting the brightness of his hair and the clearness of his eyes. The young man that stared at him looked every bit the perfect example of the noble he was pretending to be. All it truly did was fill him with the irrational need to rip the robes off, because even a naked him was more himself than the mocking reflection he was staring at.

At least Quinlan wouldn't have to worry about him getting comfortable.

“They suit you.” Dooku commented, staring intently at his reflection. Obi-Wan bit down a comment and managed to give a polite smile.

Dooku moved closer to him and adjusted the neck of his shirt.

“We'll be receiving the other great families tomorrow. A small ceremony will be held in Qui-Gon’s honor and you'll be officially introduced as heir apparent to House Dooku. It shall be a great opportunity to meet the other heirs and build some relationships. Diplomacy is essential not only in nobility and politics, but as a Jedi.”

“Yes, Gr-” he paused realizing they hadn't discussed how he would address him.

“You can continue calling me grandfather, but if you would prefer it, the traditional master should suffice.” the man said with a surprising amount of tenderness in his voice.

In just a day and a half his grandfather had managed to break almost every perception Obi-Wan had of him. He was pampering his grandson in a way not even his mother had, from things as small as making sure he was comfortable to things as ridiculous as getting all his favorite dishes together for their reception. Perhaps it was his way of compensating for the time they hadn't spent together, perhaps it was his way of coping with Qui-Gon’s death. Whatever the reason, all the attention was making him uneasy.

“Grandfather is fine, if you don't mind.” He said finally. The man had been Grandpa Dooku since he could remember, anything different would just make things more awkward.

Dooku smiled, apparently pleased by the answers, but then his face turned more serious.

“There's something I wanted to talk to you about.” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in question. Instead of continuing Dooku walked to the door and closed it.

Obi-Wan suddenly had a bad feeling.

“There were some inconsistencies and, I believe some omissions, in your retelling of Qui-Gon’s death. You said he pushed you and activated the door to lock you out of the room. But I know that particular chamber has no mechanism to activate the door. There's only one way to handle it. Like the Jedi of old, with the Force.”

Obi-Wan felt as if someone had dropped a bucket of cold water on him. He hadn't thought about that, hadn't checked. Now his grandfather knew of Qui-Gon’s betrayal. Had the council noticed too? If they had why hadn't they said anything about his blatant lie. In his panic it took him a moment too long to notice the lack of surprise or concern in Dooku's words.

“You knew.” he said in disbelief. “All this time you knew.”

Dooku lifted an eyebrow at the accusation, head slightly tilted upward.

“I thought you brighter than that. How do you think Qui-Gon learned the ways of the Force? By himself in some forbidden library during a youth rebellious stage?” he snorted. “Of course I know. I raised him. I trained him.”

Obi-Wan took a step back, feeling his very soul recoil at the new betrayal. But he'd learned from his previous experience. He took a moment to calm himself and see the event for what it was: an opportunity to ask the questions that were rotting his heart. A bridge to reconcile the man he thought he knew with the man he couldn't understand.

“Why? Why would you betray the order? What could you possibly achieve from learning an art of war?”

“An art of war? It's that what they call it now?” Dooku laughed. “It's the will of the Force that we're born Force Sensitive and it's thanks to it that we have the means to understand it. Do you mean to say that very nature of the Force is to wage war? ”

“No, the Force doesn't compel us, it merely guide us. It's our understanding of it that is flawed. That's why the ban is necessary, to stop us from misusing its power.”

A hint of ire touched Dooku’s eyes. “ How did the ban stop Qui-Gon’s murderer? The only thing it stopped was Qui-Gon from defending himself.”

“Th-that's not true. There will always be exceptions to raise but it's thanks to the ban that there aren't more monsters like the Zabrak around.”

“You speak out of your depth boy. Are you truly so naive as to think that that animal is the only of its kind or that Qui-Gon and I are the only masters of the Force in the order? Your ban is a travesty that stops nothing and helps nobody. It's a device made to appease the fear of the non-sensitives and to subdue the Jedi. The only thing it's ever accomplished is our death and discrimination.”

Every word seemed to aggrandize Dooku and dig a hole under Obi-Wan’s feet. Any protest Obi-Wan could think of stuck to his suddenly dry throat and refused to be voiced.

“Did Qui-Gon ever tell you who you are and what your name means?” A glance to his grandson’s face seemed to answer the question. “No, he didn't. You're a Kenobi of the royal line of Stewjon. Like me you were rejected by the nobility because of your gift. Your name, like my own, is a reminder to those in power that we won't stand idle in face of their injustices. For it's our hope and wish that you one day raise to power like I have.”

His words were a slap on the young Jedi’s face. Obi-Wan didn't want to believe it. His father would’ve never used him like that. But he couldn't kill the seeds of doubt. Every nonsensical decision Qui-Gon had ever made seemed to fall in place under the new light. All the subtle and unsubtle lectures about the council, duty and the Living Force seemed to take another meaning

“No, you're lying.” Obi-Wan said with venom, holding back tears of anger and pain. He refused to accept that as the reason why Qui-Gon had left him his original surname. “Father didn't believe in meddling with politics, he believed in the order and in our mission. Everyone knows he disagreed with your views and ideologies, that's why you always argued! You're disgracing him by even implying that!”

“Qui-Gon believed in the Force not in the joke that is the Jedi Order. The only reason he remained in it was because he believed he could help change it from within. If not alone then with your help. If you stand here today is to lead the tides of change and nothing else.” Dooku said coming as close to shouting as Obi-Wan had ever seen him.

Was he really just a tool for this man, for his father, for the Force? Had he really meant so little for the man that had raised him?

“But it is clear to me now that Qui-Gon had been right.” the count continued, collecting himself. “You're not ready.”

With that Dooku left Obi-Wan alone to ruminate his thoughts. Letting his words burn all sense of certainty and belonging he possessed. And now Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he was or would ever be strong enough to raise from the ashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4. Accarrgm: an extremely potent Wookiee liqueur. [ return to text]  
> 5. Vishna: a polite term to address a man, "sir". From the Universal Dictionary of Twi'leki Terms by Zach Lee.[ return to text]  
> 6. Jeru: a sweet tea with a syrup-like texture that has a calming effect on the drinker. [ return to text]  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
>   
> I ought to stop listening to myself when I say I'll keep it short and sweet. I originally planned for this to be 3 chapters long and less dark but the plot wanted it to go the other way. I expect it to have 6 to 7 chapters now, hopefully the others will take me less time than this one.
> 
> I hope you guys liked this chapter despite it being darker and heavier in plot. I do feel bad for everything that happened, but at least we get to see more of Dooku now.
> 
> Oh, if any of you were wondering. Yes, the Syndulla twi'lek is no other than Cham. Hera's father.
> 
> Also, this is unbetaed so if any of you is interested in beta reading this, I would certainly appreciate the help.
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely comments and Kudos, they kept me going in times of struggle. Feel free to drop some new ones. They are always welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, but these past months have been really rough on me. I'll apologize in advance for any mistake in this chapter, I might not have proofread it enough.

The sound of a speeder, made Anakin stop mid task. The boy tiptoed to get a glance of the road beyond the crops, squinting his eyes against the scalding twin suns.

“Drit!” He exclaimed when he recognize the man’s familiar A-A25W speeder truck.

He dropped the basket, not caring one bit about the crops inside of it, before sprinting towards the Lars residence. He'd been counting down the days to see the man again. He'd ordered a new set of droid parts with him. Hopefully he would have gotten them and he would be able to resume working on his prototype. By the time he reached the house he was out of breath and flushed, and just a little disappointed that Owen and his mother had beat him to greet the transporter.

“Hey, Ani. I was just asking about you.” The brunette tall man said as soon as he noticed the boy.

“Did you get the parts?” Anakin asked all in one breath.

Drit laughed at the boy’s excitement and threw him a brown package. “All yours.”

“Yes! Thanks so much Drit!”

 “You're welcome, kiddo. Try not to blow anything this time.”

Owen snorted.

“Everything he does explodes. He should be making bombs for the hutts. I bet they would pay him a fortune.” Owen teased, smirking in that I'm-better-than-you way that made Anakin’s blood boil. He didn’t think twice before kicking the older boy’s leg.  “Ouch!”

“Ani!” Shmi reproached horrified.

“He started!”

Not to mention Owen was completely wrong, Anakin’s last prototype had blown up because of defective parts not because of Anakin’s abilities. Living with the Lars meant he couldn't scavenge for Droid parts anymore, a dense jungle full of hostile Tuskens now separated him from the world. He was good, but even him couldn’t build machines from old broken pieces.

“Uba sleemo.” Owen growled, lifting his fist with clear intentions of hitting him.

“Now, now boys. Don't fight.” Drit said, getting between them.

“Ani, apologize.” Shmi scowled.

“But he started, mom.” Shmi’s scowl didn't fade. He knew protesting wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“I’m sorry.”  He said through clenched teeth.

“Fine.” Owen muttered back.

“Cheer up, kiddo.” Drit ruffled Anakin’s hair, making him puff in annoyance. He wasn’t a baby or anything. “I got something for you and your mom.”

Anakin stopped fussing at that, looking up with renewed enthusiasm. “You got a letter for us?”

They seldom received any letters. When they did, he always hoped it would be a letter from Obi-Wan. The chances were slim, not to say null. Obi-Wan’d explained to him how complicated it was for him to send letters. Anakin hoped anyway. If anyone could pull it off it was his friend.

“Close, but no.” The man took a piece of paper from his vest pocket and handed it to Anakin.

Anakin unfolded it carefully, revealing a lovely sketch of Shmi and him.

“I didn't know you could draw, Drit.” Owen commented with a hint of awe in his voice.

“Don't be silly Owen. You think I would be in this rock if I could draw like that?”

Anakin traced the sketch lines with a trembling finger. He knew that style. He’d seem many drawings like that one during the previous summer. He closed his eyes remembering Obi-Wan, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his hands traced lines as neat and careful as the ones in the sketch.

“This is Obi’s drawing, mom.” he said with certainty.

Shmi looked from him to Drit a little skeptical. “Where did you get this?”

“A man and a boy came looking for you at the headquarters a few days ago. They left the drawing with some of the guys to see if we could find you.”

Anakin’s stomach jumped at the news, but as hope bloomed in his chest a knot tangled itself in his gut. Obi-Wan had come looking for him, but why wasn’t he there with Drit?

“Where are they, Drit? Are they in the city? Can we go pick them up now?”

The transporter shook his head.  “I’m sorry. They left and said they would come back in a month.”

Anakin looked down at the drawing once again. There was certain sense of finality in the air, as if the sketch was merely consolation prize for a year of waiting.

He shook his head trying to dissipate the ill feeling.

He was being silly.

A month wasn’t a long time. It was barely enough time for him to finish the prototype he'd promised Qui-Gon. Whatever uneasiness he felt was unfounded. They had come back once, there was no reason why they wouldn't come again. He would meet Obi-Wan. He knew it.

In the end that was all that mattered.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ani, it's late. You need to sleep sweetheart.”

He rubbed his eyes tiredly, looking from his mother at the bedroom’s door to the the small clock on the table’s side. It was midnight. He hadn't noticed how late it was. Owen's snores from the bed beside his own had barely registered in his mind.

He suppressed a yawn. He was tired, but he wanted to complete the prototype on time. He wasn’t sure he could sleep anyway. Drit’s visit had left him too excited and anxious to sleep.

“I’ll sleep later, mom.”

Shmi sat on his side, grabbing Obi-Wan’s sketch and examining it for a moment before looking at him. “It’s alright if you don’t finish before they arrive. I’m sure Obi-Wan will be happy to help you.”

“But I want to show it to Qui-Gon before he leaves. He said he’ll promote my work, mom. If people buy it we’ll have money to live anywhere we want. You wouldn’t have to work anymore.”

Shmi smiled and kissed his forehead. “You’re too kind, Ani. But I don’t need money to be happy. I already am.” Another kiss on his cheek. “You make me the happiest and proudest mom in the Galaxy.”

“Mom!” he giggled as he was attacked with kisses and tickles until he was left panting. He beamed at her, feeling lighter than he had all day. He loved how she always knew how to make him feel better.  “Just let me take care of you, yes?”

Shmi sighed but soon smiled. “Alright, but don’t stay up too late. You promised Cliegg you would help him with the sprinkles tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” he saluted her. “Oh, and don't forget to ask Cliegg if Obi can stay with us!”

 

* * *

 

“I'm surprised you know anyone from the core. I didn't thought you would have fancy friends.” Cliegg said, leaning against his chair.

“I don’t.” Shmi sighed. “Let’s say these two are just a special case.”

Cliegg raised an eyebrow.

“Let me guess, this guy is an old lover. A handsome core pilot with whom you shared a brief romance. He’s now asking you to take care of his brat for some days while he takes care of some business.”

She laughed hard at the mental image. She wasn’t sure which thought was funnier, Qui-Gon as a frivolous pilot or Qui-Gon as her lover. “You’ve been listening to too many gossips, Cliegg. Obi-Wan and Anakin became really close while Qui-Gon was working in town, that’s all.”

“Well, you can’t fault a guy for having some imagination.” He said, eyes fixed on her as he brought a cup to his lips to hide his smirk.

“Are you alright with him staying here for a few weeks,  then?”

“He can stay here as long as he wants if he helps with the crops.”

“Thanks, Cliegg. I really appreciate it.”

She felt bad for having dragged Anakin to such a faraway place. Moving had been hard on him. She knew he missed Mos Espa and his friends. She could see the loneliness eating at him. At first she’d thought it would be fine with Owen to accompany him. They had quickly proven her wrong with their bitter rivalry. Her hope now was that Obi-Wan would help quell some of the bitterness and soften the path between them.

“Dad?” Owen’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

Cliegg frowned at his son. “What are you doing up, boy?”

“It’s Anakin he-” the young Lars didn't get to complete the sentence. Shmi was already running past him, heart racing with fear at her boy’s fate.

The sight that greeted her when she entered the room wasn't grim or even uncommon in a children's room. Anakin was turning in his bed, struggling against an invisible grip. A painful frown masked his face as he murmured unintelligible words. It wasn't a fever or some deadly disease, it was a nightmare. Any parent would have sighed in relief at that, not Shmi.

“All this fuss over a nightmare, boy.” Cliegg glared at Owen.

“But he kept screaming don't kill him. What was I supposed to do?” Owen said, looking a little shaken.

“Wake him up, Owen!”

“It's fine Cliegg.” Shmi said finally finding her voice. “Owen is right. He gets upset after his nightmares. It's better if I'm the one to wake him.”

“Alright.” Cliegg said in defeat.

Shmi sat at her son's side, just like she had done a few hours before.

“Ani, sweetheart, Wake up.” she said, but the boy continued struggling against his dream. She shook him lightly, repeating his name. They all jumped scared when the boy woke up with a jolt, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Shh, it's alright Ani. It was just a dream.” his eyes roamed for a moment, still trying to fight the last vestiges of the nightmare. When they settled Shmi was startled by the raw fear in them.

He usually was disoriented and confused after those dreams, but never so scared.

“Mom?”

“Yes, it's me.” She answered tucking a wild lock behind his ear. “It's fine, sweetheart.”

To her surprise he shook his head.

“No, it's not! He died, mom.” Anakin sobbed, burying his face on her chest. “Qui-Gon’s dead, and Obi’s alone. It's not alright, mom.”

The words froze Shmi to the core.

Anakin’s dreams had turned out right before, but this one had to be wrong. How could anyone show something so cruel to a child?

“Look at me Ani.” she said lifting his chin so he could look at her. “It was just a dream. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are coming here in a few weeks.”

“No, they're not. I saw it, mom! Obi was crying over Qui-Gon’s body's. He's hurting. We have to find him, mom.” he begged between sobs. “We have to help him. He needs us.”

“Oh, Ani” Shmi hugged the boy as he cried his heart out. “Dreams might appear real, but they're not. It'll be alright. Obi-Wan will be here soon.”

But Shmi didn't sound sure, not even to herself.

 

* * *

 

Much to Shmi’s relief nobody mentioned the incident the next day. The only sign that anything unusual had happened were the furtive glances Owen would send Anakin’s way when he thought nobody was looking. She was sure Cliegg had asked him not to comment on it. She was grateful for that and she thought that would be the end of it.  At least until two days later when Cliegg barged into the kitchen looking like possessed man.

“We need to talk.”

“Can it wait? Dinner's almost ready.”

“No, it can't.” He said already moving away from the kitchen.

Shmi cleaned her hands quickly before following him to the main bedroom. She had a bad feeling about it and it solidified when Cliegg closed the door right after her.

“You know what's the word in town?” he started without missing a beat. “A Jedi died in Ryloth, two nights ago. His name, Qui-Gon Jinn. What the kriff is going on Shmi? And don't you dare tell me this is a coincidence, because it's not.”

“Cliegg-” she started, but Cliegg cut her with a pointed finger.

“Don't.” He said sharply. “He's a force user isn't he?”

“He's a child.” she said in indignation.

“You think that matters!” He ran a hand through his short hair. “Dear Force, what’ve you gotten me into? If words get out we're done for.”

“You think I don't know that? I've been dealing with this for years.” She snapped and regretted it instantly.

She wasn't making herself any favors by antagonizing him. If Cliegg wanted he could throw them out and spread the word, and that would be it for her and her son.

There was no safe place for Force users. The Great Wars had made sure of that. Shmi didn't know much history, not many in the outer ring did, but there's one thing everybody knew about the wars. The Force users were responsible for them.

Every kid in the galaxy grew up listening the frightening tales of the Force users. The monsters that had almost destroyed the galaxy and plunged it into a dark age. Monster that could kill with a stare and break a mind with a few words.

As a child Shmi had been as scared of them as anyone else. What nobody had ever told her was that those monsters were children just like her. She'd learned that years later when she'd seen a boy hung for using the Force. His haunted eyes had followed her for weeks, but even then she hadn't thought much about it. After all, the boy had been one of those monsters. He must have somehow deserved his fate. It wasn't until she'd become pregnant of a fatherless child that she’d finally understood the unfairness that was the curse of the Force.

The mere thought of her Ani sharing that boy's fate kept her awake at night.

“Please, we have nowhere to go and no one to help us.”

Cliegg tsked and started pacing from one side of the room to the other. She could only imagine what a hard decision this was for him. If anyone ever caught winds of Anakin’s abilities he would be branded as much a traitor as them. It wasn't something Shmi wanted to ask of him, but she had no other option.

After a tense minute the elder Lars stopped.

“You can stay, but if things start getting ugly I have to think of Owen first.”

Shmi let out the breath she'd been holding. Tears of relief streamed down her cheeks. That was more than she’d expected, much more than she could ask.

“Thanks, Cliegg. I swear we'll repay you this kindness one day.”

“Stop that. I can't stand seeing women cry.” He fumbled for the handkerchief in his pocket and she accepted it with a smile. He let her calm down before asking. “Does he know?”

She looked at him. “Would you tell Owen?”

Cliegg looked away. “I suppose I wouldn’t.” he answered after a short silence.

“I know you have many questions, but I think It’s better if I go finish dinner.” She said doing her best to smile. “I’ll tell you everything tonight. I promise.”

He nodded still a little dazed.

Shmi turned around and was about to leave the room when he spoke.

“Will you tell him about his friend?”

“I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “I don't want to lie to him, but I don't want him to spend his life fearing his dreams.”

He looked at her in the eye before saying. “Perhaps he should.”

 

* * *

 

 

Anakin let his chin rest on his knees. He’d been waiting for the past two days for something to happen, for someone to come. It was silly, he knew. Even if his mother was right, even if Qui-Gon was still alive, it would be weeks before they arrived.

“You know they won't come, right?” Owen commented not looking up from the crops he was cleaning. “Core people don't care about us.”

“No one asked you.” Anakin spat, glaring at the older boy.

“Well, if they cared they would’ve waited until they found you. Or they would’ve left more than just a silly drawing behind. You just don't want to accept it. Your friends don't care about you.”

“That's none of your business.”

Owen opened his mouth to reply but Shmi’s voice interrupted him. “Dinner’s ready, boys.”

“Finally.” Owen jumped, not looking back at Anakin as he made his way inside.

Anakin stood almost reluctantly.

“Ani, wait.” his mother said putting a hand on his shoulder. “There's something I need to tell you.”

Anakin frowned and sat back down. He could see how tense she was. He wondered if he'd done something wrong. The sprinklers were coming out fine, but perhaps Cliegg wasn’t happy with them.

“I'm so sorry, Anakin.” she started very slowly. “Cliegg heard in town that a Jedi died. Qui-Gon’s dead.”

“You said it was just a dream.” he whispered, as the last remnants of hope died inside of him.

“I thought it was just a dream. I couldn't have known.”

“But you could! I told you! You just didn't believe me.” She'd made him doubt himself. She'd given him broken hopes. “You didn’t care. All you care about is the farm and the Lars.”

“Ani, th-”

“I wish I'd left with them last year. At least I would have Obi-Wan now! ” He turned around and ran into the jungle, ignoring his mother’s desperate calls.

His legs carried him far before giving out. He leaned against a tree, panting before a loud sob wrecked him. He watched his tears roll down his cheeks and land on the decaying leaves on the jungle’s soil. One after another they scattered like his dreams and hopes.

His mom once told him that good things happened to good people. She’d lied about that too. If good things happened to good people Qui-Gon wouldn't be death, Obi-Wan wouldn't be alone, and he wouldn't be there stuck doing a farmer's job.

Was he asking for too much? Was wanting to see the boy that had showed him how to dream beyond the sky of Tatooine too much to ask?

The echo of a loud shriek was his only answer.

When he looked over his shoulders and saw a group of Tusken coming at him he laughed bitterly.

Any other time he would have pissed his pants, but fear was far from his mind at that particular moment. His blood was boiling in anger at life, at its unfairness, at its ugliness. Instead of running he turned to face them and clenched his fist until he could feel his nails biting against his skin. There was fire in his chest begging to be released like the fury of a dragon. Something deep inside of him whispered to let it go, to take from life what life had taken from him.

The Tusken stopped, looking around in sheer confusion. The trees surrounding them were shaking, their leaves rustling like the overture to an ominous event. They were scared, Anakin could feel it. He could taste their fear on his lips. He took a step forward and they took a step backward. One by one they started to drop to their knees, grabbing their heads as if in agony.

The sound of a blaster firing snapped him out of his bloodlust stupor.

“Anakin!”

The trees stopped shaking and the leaves stopped their song of death. Anakin swung on his feet drained, barely holding onto consciousness.

“I got you.” Cliegg said as he caught him. The man brought him close to his chest, pressing Anakin’s head against it, letting his heartbeat soothe the child. “It's alright. They're gone.” He said when the first sob escaped the boy.

But he was wrong, just like his mother had been wrong before. It wasn't alright. It would never be. Nothing could bring Qui-Gon back. Nothing could ever erase the taste of fear and power from his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun was setting by the time Shmi spotted Cliegg’s silhouette in the distance. Her knees went weak in relief. She ran at him but stopped once she saw her son's unmoving frame on his back.

“He's just sleeping.” he assured her quickly. “A group of Tusken found him but I got there before they could harm him. He cried himself to sleep.”

She rubbed her child’s cheek noticing the dried trails of tears.

“Thanks, Cliegg.” She whispered.

He nodded and gave her a tired smile.

“Is he alright?” Owen asked when they approached the house. “Not that I’m worried or anything.” he added, looking to his side with a small pout.

Shmi couldn’t help but smiled at that. She’d found Owen crying in his room. He’s thought it was his fault Anakin had escaped because he’d been mean to him earlier. It was good that he wouldn’t have to carry that guilt with him now. Perhaps the whole thing would at least serve to bring the two boys closer.

“Aye, he should be fine after some sleep.” Cliegg said smiling at his son. His voice was strained and Shmi wondered if something else had happened. “I’ll take him to their room.” He said looking at her before turning back to his son. “You’ll sleep with me tonight, Owen. We can’t have your snoring waking him up.”

“Oh, Come on. I don’t snore.” The boy puffed, but didn’t complain beyond that.

Shmi remained at her son’s side after the two Lars had left.

Alone she finally let herself sob silently. She had never been so scared in her life. She’d been so sure she’d lost him for good.

All because of a dream.

She’d tried so hard to understand why life would make Anakin that way. His abilities had only ever caused them pain and troubles, but all this time she’d thought that it would be worth it at the end. How could she not think that when she knew what he was capable of? There had to be a purpose to it, to his ability and their pain. She knew he was meant for something great, perhaps to make the wretched galaxy a little less painful.

She couldn’t bring herself to think that anymore, not after seeing her son die a little when she’d told him about Qui-Gon. No deity or destiny willing to put a child through that pain would make the world a better place.

“I’m sorry, mom.” her son's hoarse voice startled her out of her thoughts.

“It’s fine, Ani.” she said holding back tears and hugging him. “Everything will be fine now.”

“Why did he have to die? He was a good man wasn't he?”

Shmi let go of her son. Anakin wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the ceiling looking defeated and lost. She struggled to find words. There was nothing she could say to make him feel better. Bad things happened to good people without reasons or recompense. It was the sad reality of life. A reality she wished she could protect him from, but in the end all she could do was prepare him for the blows that life would land on him.

“Even good men die at some point. It's a fate we all share.”

Anakin didn't reply he just closed his eyes and turned to face the wall.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later Shmi sat in front of the house, gazing at the jungle. Her thoughts kept going back to her son, to what he’d asked her earlier that night, to his defeated expression. She didn’t know if it was her mother’s instinct but she felt something had changed in him. She feared what that meant for them, what it meant for his future.

“You should sleep.”

“Shouldn't _you_ be sleeping?” she looked back at Cliegg.

“I was finishing the sprinkler.” he paused. “Can I sit?”

Shmi moved to her side to make some space for him. There they sat in silence staring at the jungle, illuminated by the dimmed glow of Tatooine’s three moons. There was much they wanted to ask each other but they were both afraid.

It was Shmi who found the courage first. “Did something happen in the jungle?”

Cliegg’s his eyes narrowed slightly, he looked haunted.

“I’m not sure I can explain what I saw.” he sounded tired. “When I reached him the Tusken were on their knees holding their heads, and he was standing in front of them. It was very odd. He didn’t look scared at all. I shot at them anyway… and something happened, the air felt different, lighter.” he struggled with the words before sighing. “I can’t really explain what it was, but the Tusken fled after that.” He finally looked at her. “Was it him, Shmi? Was he doing something to them?”

“I’ve never seen him do anything like that.”

“What _can_ he do, Shmi?”

She had promised him she would tell him, but now she was scared. She’d never shared this with anyone else, but he was in it with her now.

“He knows things before they happen. Some times he has those dreams, but they aren't frequent. It'd been years since he had one. He's able to calm animals too. I once found him playing with a wild Anooba.” It made her smile now but she had been scared to death when Anakin had showed her his new friend. “He might be able to do other things but that's all I’ve seen.”

The haunted looked didn't left Cliegg’s face. “Is he dangerous to us?”

She stared at him wide eyed.

“I'm not saying he would hurt us in purpose.” He added quickly. “But you don't know everything he's capable of. What if he loses control? Could he hurt us then?”

For the second time that day Shmi found herself without words. It scared her to admit it, but he was right. She didn’t know the limits of her son's abilities. She didn't know if he would ever grow to be able to do the things the legends said. She wanted to believe he would never hurt them, knowingly or not, but she couldn't look him in the eye and tell him he wouldn't.

“I-I don't know, Cliegg.” she bit her lips. “Are you having second thoughts? Do you want us to leave?”

“No.” He rubbed his face. “Forget about it. I'm just tired.”

He stood and turned around ready to head inside.

“Cliegg.” she called. He looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. “Thanks… for everything.”

His eyes softened at that. “Always.”

 

* * *

 

Anakin couldn't sleep.

There was no peace in him. He was plagued by dreams of blood and pain, of monsters made of shadows with glowing yellow eyes. It wasn’t better when he was awake. Every moment was a struggle against himself, against the dragon in his chest and against its roars of rage. Anakin was drowning, swimming against a current of emotions too strong to contain, unable to find a way to save himself.

He pushed himself up right,  letting his feet fall to his side and touch the cold floor of the room.

Owen's bed was empty… he couldn't recall another time the boy hadn't slept there.

 _You know why he isn’t here._ The dragon whispered.

Cliegg had seen him. He had seen the dragon thirsting for the Tusken blood. That's why Owen wasn't there, because Cliegg knew what kind of monster Anakin was.

“Shut up!” He said through clenched teeth.

Cliegg wouldn’t have brought him back if he really thought that of him. The dragon was a liar and he wouldn't listen to it. He would get his mom. She would help him shut it up.

He made his way to the Shmi room, trying not to rouse any of the Lars.

“Mom.” Anakin whispered against her door. When nobody answered he opened the door. The room was empty. He frowned. There weren’t many places she could be. The house wasn’t particularly big and he hadn't heard anyone in the kitchen. She was probably outside, so he made his way to the front door.

“Is he dangerous to us?” his hand stilled in front of the switch to the door. “I'm not saying he would hurt us in purpose. But you don't know everything he's capable of. What if he loses control? Could he hurt us then?”

“I-I don't know, Cliegg.”

It took him a moment to realize who was speaking and another to realize they were referring to him.

 _She fears you._ The dragon laughed. _She doesn’t love you._

 _No! Shut up!_ He screamed back at it.

Anakin’s closed his eyes tightly, hands on his ears trying to block the dragon’s sardonic laugh from his mind. When he opened his eyes he realized the buzzing sound in his ears wasn’t the dragon’s laugh, it was the trembling objects in the house.

It was then that he understood what Cliegg meant.

Anakin turned around and dashed to his room.

He grabbed his worn backpack and started filling it with what little he possessed. Four sets of clothes, the parts Drit had brought him, three hundred Wupiupis he’d saved over the summer. He stopped when he reached for Obi-Wan’s sketch. His lips trembled and he bit them to stop himself from sobbing.

Not all was lost.

Obi-Wan was still out there, alone and in pain, just like Anakin was about to be. All he needed was to find him. Obi-Wan was a Jedi, he would know how to help him. He could teach Anakin how to control his powers. Then one day he could come back and see his mother again.

Holding to that thought Anakin opened the window. With one last glance to the room he jumped outside and disappeared into the shadows of Tatooine’s night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortest chapter to date but I feel (or at least I'd like to think) that it was enough. This marks the end of the first part of the fic. The second part will be more plot focused (so this is where the fun begins). 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for waiting so patiently and for all the comments. I really appreciated them. I hope you guys liked the chapter.


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